


The Rest Still Shine

by gabrielwinchhester (safeandsound67)



Category: Supernatural, sabriel - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angel Bonds, Angel Gabriel (Supernatural), Hunter Sam, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Sabriel - Freeform, Sabriel Big Bang, Sabriel Big Bang 2015, Season/Series 09, Slight fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 08:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6111306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safeandsound67/pseuds/gabrielwinchhester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's just ejected Gadreel from his body, and now he and Dean are trying to work out their many issues as they always do- by ignoring them and hoping they'll go away soon. Thankfully, they have something to distract them: Castiel’s stolen Grace has made him an angel again, and he needs help opening Heaven’s Gates.<br/>One day while researching, Sam finds an old spell that will restore Heaven and let the angels go back home. Only problem is, the spell can only be carried out by an archangel. Opening the Cage to free Michael and Lucifer isn't an option, and Raphael isn't the easiest to deal with, which leaves them with Gabriel.<br/>And Gabriel’s dead.<br/>Well, he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this has been one amazing adventure from start to finish!  
> This is my first ever Big Bang, my first ever long(ish) fic and my first ever actual piece of fanfiction!
> 
> Thank you to the mods of this challenge who made this Bang a pleasure to write for.  
> To my wonderful artist- stareena on tumblr- who made amazing art to go with this- thank you!  
> [LINK TO ART](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6118464)  
> And to my fantastic ~~angels~~ betas (there's no difference, anyway)- Adam and Cindy- thank you so much! This wouldn't have been coherent without you guys. 
> 
> And lastly, to you guys- the fandom!  
> I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  


When Sam walked in, Dean had his feet up on the large mahogany desk that occupied the Men of Letters’ library. Cheap convenience store beer in one hand and a weighty tome in the other, he looked just about as tired as Sam felt. Dean had pulled up two large, plush armchairs- one for his brother and another, the one in which he was currently sitting- and had placed another two beers on the desk, waiting for Sam. Sam smiled slightly at the sheer domesticity of the scene, then sighed as he made his way towards the inviting chair, dropping his bag of notes on translated occult books on the floor next to him. Vaguely, he registered the familiar sound of Dean’s Metallica vinyl coming from the Men of Letters’ ancient record player.

 

“Heya, Sammy. You find anything?” Dean inquired, his voice laced with exhaustion.

 

Sam sighed again. He had found something- a big something, but he didn't want for Dean to reject his proposal simply because he didn't like it. As far as Sam was concerned, this was their only option. There was literally no other way they could help Castiel restore Heaven. Granted, it was a crappy idea, and one heck of a long shot, but Sam was adamant that no matter how bad the idea, he wanted to try it. It wasn't like they had any other choice.

 

"Well? Anything? Come on, Sammy. We've been at this for days, man. Look, I still say that if we haven't made any progress by the end of this week, we take a nice long break. Maybe… go back to that nice lake we found. Or have Vegas week. Unless you’ve found something, that is. If you have, I suggest you speak up right about now." Dean glared at his brother, impatience getting the best of him.

 

Sam shot his brother a warning glance. He still hadn't entirely forgiven Dean for the Ezekiel-Gadreel-whatever-his-name-was fiasco. And who could blame him? It wasn't something that even the most forgiving person on earth would forgive easily. Dean had betrayed him- again. Yes, his intentions were good, as Sam’s always were, yet Dean never seemed to forgive him completely. Dean always seemed to hang on to Sam's mistakes and use them as leverage every time he needed a reason to prove his mistrust of his brother.

 

They had made up as best they could, Sam only half forgiving Dean. They, as always, put the needs of the world before their own. One day, this was sure to be their downfall. Today, however, was not that day.

 

Dean, seeing his brother’s exhaustion, shut up and waited for his brother to speak.

 

“You're not going to like this-” before Sam could continue, Dean sighed and cut him off.

 

“Sammy, in all the years we've been hunting together, when have we ever come up with a plan that is even close to being likable? Oh, that's right- never.”

 

To Dean's surprise, Sam laughed. It was more of a chuckle, but it warmed Dean’s heart nonetheless. Maybe Sam wasn't as mad at him as he had originally thought.

 

 “You're right, Dean. Well, long story short, I found something. Something big. There- there's another way to open the Gates.”

 

At this, Dean’s head snapped up. He had been expecting an inconsequential piece of information from his brother. Maybe a small section of lore that they could try to use, but not this. Never this.

 

“Sammy. You're kidding, right? I mean, there's no actual way that there'd be another route, right?” Dean’s voice rose a few octaves as he spoke.

 

Sam smiled a wide, honest smile. “Sorry to break it to you, Dean, but I'm not kidding. There _is_ another way, but-”

 

 

Before Sam could finish, Dean was already up, out of his chair and he was… dancing? His face had broken into a large grin, and he was hopping around the room in the crazed manner of a man who had just won the million-dollar lottery. To Sam’s horror, he was belting out the one song he thought he'd never have to hear again- Asia’s Heat of the Moment. Sam shook his head at the irony of the  situation. He raised an eyebrow and was ready to made a snarky comment, but thought better of it. It had been weeks since he had seen his brother so carefree, as if he didn't have a single care in the world.

 

 Sam smiled slowly and watched his brother jump around like a madman, glad to see him happier than he had been lately. Then, just as soon as he had started, Dean sobered up, sat down abruptly and put his head in his hands. Sam looked at him in confusion and opened his mouth to question him, but was cut off by Dean’s resigned explanation.

 

“You said ‘but’. Nothing good ever comes from a ‘but’.”

 

 Sam’s smile faded. Dean continued, sitting up and not paying much attention to his brother’s expression.

 

 “And, to top it all off, I doubt this solution of yours will be easy. Hell, it never is. But, I can't say I don't want the angels out of our hair and back in their oversized treehouse in the sky, so spill.” With that, he turned away from Sam and downed his beer in one go, obviously preparing himself.

 

Sam ran his hand through his hair and started speaking. “Well… I found some  lore a few days ago. Old, old lore. Stuff we've never seen before. Stuff so ancient and so obscure I'm sure even Bobby wouldn’t have head of it. According to the lore, an archangel could reopen the heavenly gates by performing an extremely complicated ritual. Only an archangel can do it, and since we kind of have a shortage of them around, I didn't even consider it until today.”

 

“Today, I happened to find this book on the archangels and their Grace. I remembered the lore I had read, so I started reading the book. It says that an archangel’s Grace is different to a lesser-ranking angel’s. It superior. The lesser-ranking angels, like Cas, don't have the certain benefits that the archangels do in terms of their Grace. See,” Sam stopped and dug in his bag, pulling out a thick book with frayed, yellowing pages and consulted it.

 

“Here it is,” said Sam, clearing his throat before starting to read. “‘An archangel’s Grace can be considered to be of infinite amount and power. It can, at the archangel’s command, expand.’” Sam ran his finger down the page, humming softly as he went. His finger stopped and he began reading again, having found the section he had been looking for.

 

“ An archangel’s Grace can, amongst other things, expand to contain different personalities and even identities or personas. If an archangel’s Grace expands to contain another identity, then a special bond forms between the two. In a sense, the archangel is now two. The sides become interdependent, yet separate. They do not interfere with each other, yet they do work together. For example, if an archangel’s Grace were expanded to contain the persona of an immortal being, then, should the archangel be stabbed with an archangel’s blade, the angelic half would draw sustenance from the immortal being’s life source. This would result in the alternate persona being killed and the archangel staying alive.’”

 

With that, Sam looked up triumphantly at his brother, fixing him with a meaningful look.

 

Dean, however, wasn't quite following Sam’s train of thought. The explanation was one he understood, by he couldn't for the life of him figure out how it would help them. He frowned, cocking his head to the side slightly.

 

“Uh, Sam? That made absolutely no sense at all to me. Care to re-explain; maybe in English this time?”

 

Sam snorted. He knew that Dean had understood everything he had just said, and that he just wanted to be dramatic.

“What I don't get is how all this affects us. I'm sure the archangels are pretty damn chuffed about this whole Grace thing, but what's it to us?” Dean questioned.   

 

“Well, according to this text, it's possible for Gabriel, _an_ _archangel_ , to be alive! I mean, think about it, Dean! He was Loki for centuries, possibly even millennia, so I'm going to go out on a limb here and presume that his Grace expanded to include that persona. Of course, that means that when Lucifer ‘killed’ him, he only really killed the Loki ‘part’ of him. Since his Grace would have been dominant, its life source would have been absorbed, leaving only the angelic part of him alive!” Sam was out of breath by the time he finished. He had said it all in a rush; he was so excited about the breakthrough.

 

Dean stared at him, incredulous. He stared for a while, before he finally seemed to regain use of his tongue and sputtered, “You mean… He's alive? We can bring him back? You're saying that this ridiculous plan of yours might actually work? Sammy, I swear if you're lying, so help me God…” Dean’s warning tone faded when Sam inclined his head in affirmation.

 

“It's a plan that may or may not come through, but hey, we've got to try, don't we?” Sam grinned at Dean.

 

“Of course we do! Wait. Dammit, Sam, how are we going to do this?” Dean deflated and slumped into his chair. He took a long drink from his second beer.

 

He looked up to see Sam, still grinning.

 

“Why on earth are you so cheerful? You don't have a solution to this, do you?” Upon seeing Sam’s triumphant expression, he sighed.

 

“Who am I kidding? ‘Course you do. Trust my genius of a little brother to _always_ have a solution. Come on then, lay it on me.”

 

“Well, if my theory's correct, the angelic part of Gabriel should've been bonded to the Trickster part. So get this- all we need to do is summon Loki. And that, Dean, is how we’re going to get ourselves an archangel,” replied Sam, his eyes dancing with north and poorly veiled relief.

 

“What the hell are we waiting for, then? Let's summon ourselves a Trick- arch- you know what? I'm going to go with calling the guy Gabriel. This guy’s identity crisis is way too complicated to follow.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

The brothers spent their next few hours preparing for the summoning spell. Sam, as always, had done all his research beforehand on how to summon the pagan god.The spell was relatively simple and it paled in comparison to others they had performed over the years. They needed a few cans of spray paint to draw their sigils, a dark room and candles for ‘illumination’, since Dean couldn't stand working in complete darkness. And of course- the two hardest ingredients. The spell called for the blood of someone the Trickster had played a trick on- and an old belonging of the pagan god’s.

The first item was not as problematic as it first seemed, seeing as Gabriel had not only once, but twice played a trick on Sam. Sam’s blood would be sufficient for the spell. Dean, of course, was not happy about that. He didn't want any of his brother’s blood used for bringing back ‘that dick angel’. Luckily for the whole operation, Sam was having none of Dean’s big-brotherly nonsense and shut him down as soon as he started.

The second item was far harder to find. The last any of them had seen of the angel or his vessel was at the Elysian Fields motel. Dean immediately dismissed the idea of going back to the motel, citing there being nothing left there for them.

His brother, on the other hand, had another event on his mind. That night, after Lucifer had supposedly killed Gabriel, Sam had gone back.

~

_Tiptoeing around Dean late at night, Sam had made sure he didn't wake him. Which, considering the fact that Dean was so heavy a sleeper that even the radio turned to full volume wouldn't startle him, wasn't very hard. He had taken the Impala’s keys and driven it back to the motel, ridden with guilt. As always, he had taken the blame on himself for the night’s events. When he got back to the motel, he lay on the floor next to the still-warm body of the only archangel who had ever taken their side. Sure, it had taken him a while, but he'd come to their aid in the end. For that, Sam thought, he deserved a burial. After lying there for what could have been hours or simply minutes, Sam had stood up on shaky legs, picked up the archangel’s corpse and walked outside. There, he gently placed the body on the grass and proceeded to find somewhere to bury all that he had left of the angel._

_He wandered around the motel for a good while, checking his phone once every ten minutes or so to make sure Dean hadn't woken up, panicked and called. At around one in the morning, he’d found the perfect place- a small clearing in the trees, behind the motel. He took the shovel he’d been carrying around and started digging. He dug and dug until he had a roughly Gabriel-sized hole. He sighed. It was nowhere near perfect; he and his brother had much more practice digging up bones and bodies than actually digging a hole for one. He made his way back to the motel where he had left the archangel’s body and lugged it toward the clearing. Upon reaching it, he dragged the small body to the side of the grave and lowered it in._

_After putting the body in as gently as he could and filling the grave with the dry soil, he straightened up. This was the part of any funeral where the attendants would say an eulogy of sorts about the person they were burying. He looked around awkwardly. He wasn't sure whether he should say a few words or not- did he have the right? Throwing all caution to the wind, he spoke._

_“Gabriel. I first knew you as the janitor, then as a Trickster, an archangel, and finally, as the Norse god Loki.” At this point, Sam chuckled. He then realised: he knew much more about the angel than he had every thought he would have, but he had learned even more from him. Having said that, Sam should have been satisfied with the fitting burial given to the archangel, left, and gotten some sleep. Instead, he had found himself unable to leave. Sam, again, didn't know much about acceptable funeral behaviour. But then again, he and his brother were the poster boys of the polar opposite of normal and acceptable._

_Instead of speaking about Gabriel and **his** life, Sam told Gabriel everything about him, and his life. At first, he hadn't been talking to Gabriel, per se, but at some point, he had broken down and prayed. Sam had, back then, been full of pain. Pain that he couldn't tell anyone about. Not even his brother, and his brother was all he had. Pain stemming from Mary and Jess’ deaths so many years ago, and from the life at Stanford he'd left behind. The pain stemmed from everywhere. Most recent, however, was the pain he felt after he had started the apocalypse. That was the pain that weighed him down the most. He had brought it down on the world, and in his mind, he deserved to be punished for it. Sam was hurting. He hurt for the people he hadn't been able to save, and for the ones he wouldn't be able to save because of the apocalypse. He spoke directly to Gabriel, cracking a few jokes along the way like would have, and the archangel been alive and standing next to him in the frigid wind. This was when he had begun to feel as if he wasn't alone. A strange, unnatural warmth enveloped him with slight hesitancy, wrapping him in a blanket of softer and forgiveness. It had seemed to seep out from the ground underneath his shoes. Sam dismissed it as a figment of his tired, battered imagination and hadn't thought much of it. _

_Once he had let out everything he had been holding in since Dean’s return from Hell,_

_“I-I don't know what to say. I mean, I did just pour my heart out to you minutes ago, but now, there's nothing left for me to say except… goodbye. Goodbye Gabriel, and thank you. For everything.” Sam’s cheeks were wet- a fact he'd never admit to as being the truth._

Looking back at his decision, Sam could see just how rashly he had acted. But now, his rashness helped them. He knew exactly where Gabriel’s vessel was buried, therefore he could retrieve the most important possible belonging of the archangel’s- his old vessel.

There was one problem, of course- Dean. Dean didn't know about Sam’s little funeral expedition that had occurred on that cold night. That night, Sam had snuck away once Dean was asleep, taking the Impala with him. He had been careful not to wake his brother up; Dean hadn't mentioned it the next day, so he didn't know. Sam wasn't sure what exactly Dean would say, but he was sure it wouldn't be anything good.

Sam sighed heavily. Dean was in the kitchen, making sandwiches for the two’s lunch while Sam sat in the library, ‘researching’ the spell. Steeling himself, Sam stood up, carefully placed the fragile tomes back into the shelves and walked to the dingy kitchen to talk to Dean.

 _I'd better get this over and done with, then,_ he thought. Once entering the kitchen, he looked around, surprised. Dean was standing by the kitchen sink, washing up. Dean had obviously cleaned the place up a bit since Sam’d been there last. The random bouts of cooking and cleaning that Dean spouted left Sam in awe. _Dean must really think of the bunker as home. I don't know how he does. I know this is the closest thing to home we've had in a while, but I can't help but feel as if there should be more,_ thought Sam.

“Hey, Dean? Can we talk?” Sam asked. “I have something to tell you.”

Dean turned around, grinning. Sam groaned loudly and shuddered at the sight of his brother wearing the _Kiss The Cook_ apron that Sam had bought for one of their prank wars.

“Course, Sammy. You get the beers, I'll get the sandwiches, pie and your… salad. We’ll sit and talk, okay?” As usual, Dean made a face as he mentioned Sam’s salad to express his disapproval.

Sam nodded, retrieved the beers and retreated to the War Table, as Dean had dubbed, it near the entrance of the bunker. They usually ate their meals there, whenever they were in and hadn't eaten from some diner. As the younger Winchester waited for his brother to appear, he re-evaluated his predicament.

_Should I get some backup? Cas, maybe? I think he'd agree with me, and Dean would give in to just about anything if Cas asks him to. That's it- I'm getting Cas over here. I can't do this by myself if I want to survive this. Who knows what Dean will do when he finds out._

Having made up his mind, Sam bowed his head, shut his eyes,, hoped Cas would actually listen to him this time around, and prayed.

_Hey, Cas? It's Sam. Well, if you're listening, I-uh may have found a way to re open the Gates. But I need your help. There's something I need to tell Dean about, and I don't think he’ll be very happy once he hears it. So, if you could pop down here for a bit and back me up, that’d be great._

As soon as Sam had finished, he heard the now-familiar faint rustling of angel wings. Behind him stood Castiel, who greeted him with a warm smile.

“Sam. You have found a way to open the Gates? That is… wonderful news. Would you mind explaining how exactly this is possible? I was under the impression that there was no other way.” Castiel’s gravely tone had taken on a more pleasant note at the development.

Sam smiled back and quickly ran Cas through the rough plan he and Dean had thought up. Thankfully, Castiel and Gabriel had shared a much less chaotic history than Dean and Gabriel, which meant that Castiel was a lot less apprehensive of the proposal. Dean didn't like the idea of getting help from Gabriel. This wasn't something he had explicitly told Sam, but Sam knew his brother.

Sam filled Castiel in on everything that had happened the night Lucifer had ‘stabbed’ Gabriel, only leaving out the part in which Sam had cried and spoken to Gabriel. He wasn't sure what Castiel would have made of that, and he needed Castiel on his side in this matter. He explained his hesitation to tell Dean about the night at the motel. To his relief, Cas understood.

“You are right. Dean can be a bit… headstrong at times. If he were to come to know of the burial you gave my brother- for which I thank you, by the way- he would not react well. Fortunately, I have a solution-” before Cas could continue, in walked Dean.

“Cas? Wha-What are you doing here? Don't you have business to take care of?” Dean said, flustered, yet secretly pleased at the sudden appearance of the angel.

Castiel turned to Dean, smiled and said, “Hello, Dean. Sam called for me. He said that he had found a way to restore Heaven, so I came over.” Castiel noticed the plates in Dean’s hands that were full with food and sat down, addressing both Winchesters again. 

“I assume you two were about to eat? We can sit and discuss this then, if that's alright.”

“Of course, Cas. Why wouldn't it be alright?” Dean sat down at the table in somewhat of a hurry and gestured to his brother to sit down. Sam sat and he and Castiel exchanged similar looks of apprehension. Cas nodded at Sam to start the explanation, assuring him that he’d take his side , should Dean not react well.

“Dean, about what I was saying earlier- the spell calls for a former belonging of Gabriel’s, right?”

Sam stopped and waited for Dean to respond with a muffled affirmation. His brother’s face was stuffed with his sandwich and Sam accepted the other one that Cas handed him, taking a bite before continuing.

“Well, the night that we were at the motel, I went back. I don't know why, but I went back. I guess I thought that Gabriel deserved a proper burial, you know? I didn't want to leave him there, lying in the room after being killed by his own brother. So, I-I buried him. I found a clearing in the patch of woods near the motel and I buried him.”

Sam’s head had been bowed the entire time; he didn't want to see the look on Dean’s face. A few seconds passed before Dean spoke, and when he did, Sam looked up in utter surprise.

“This is what you wanted to tell me? Dammit, Sam! You and Cas were acting like you were about to tell me that you'd done something terrible- broken the world or some other thing I've told you not to do again. This- this is something that'll actually help us! According to your little story, we know _exactly_ where Gabriel's vessel is. And that's like the best thing we could get for the spell, right?”

Dean paused and stared at Cas’ and Sam’s startled expressions.

“What? I would say you two look like you've seen a ghost, but that's something that happens to us a lot.”

At this, Sam chuckled and let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding in.

“Yeah, I'm a bit annoyed that you didn't mention the whole clandestine funeral thing. It sounds more like a chick-flick moment to me, but hey. Whatever gets the Gates back open, right?” Dean grinned at Sam and then at Cas, who beamed back at him.

“Of course, Dean. Should we begin the preparations?” asked Cas.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Neither of them had expected Cas to stick around for much longer. Sam had thought Cas would be back to business within seconds of his telling Dean, and Dean, well, Dean hadn't even known Cas was coming.

Castiel looked at Sam with his usual fiery intensity. “I could take us to the motel to retrieve Gabriel’s body, if you wish.”

“That sounds great, Cas. It'll save us a lot of time. Thank you.” Sam replied.

“We won't be long. Can you get the rest of the stuff ready?” Sam turned to Dean, who was still sitting down and drinking from his bottle of beer. He nodded and waved Sam and the angel on.

“Go on, I'll be over here.” Dean said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos, comments or bookmark this if you want. Or just smile and think, "yes. I liked this" (if you did) and move on. It's all appreciated.
> 
> I'm found posting stuff and flailing on tumblr as gabrielwinchhester, so come say hi!


	3. Chapter 3

Sam gasped, clutching onto Cas’ arm for support. He wasn't sure what it was, but whenever an angel zapped him anywhere, Sam experienced a feeling similar to that of whiplash. Castiel frowned down at the hunter in worry and steadied him.

“Sam. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, Cas. Thanks.”

“I'm not sure why this is happening. I understand this happens to you. I apologise. I do not wish for you to be hurt.”

Sam smiled. After Cas had let go of seemingly all the hostility he had felt for him after the demon blood they had become close. They could now hold a normal conversation without it ending in an awkward silence. 

“I'm okay. Don't worry about me.” Sam straightened up and gazed at the rundown motel in front of them. In a second, all the memories he had of that night flooded back. He remembered everything- him and Dean checking in, the conference of the various gods and… Gabriel.

It was Gabriel he remembered the clearest.

Him, entering the room with his usual aura of casual arrogance.

Him, and the sadness in his eyes when he told the brothers of their fate.

The inexplicable pang Sam had felt when Kali had stabbed Gabriel.

Him, housing a bone-chilling fire in his eyes when he had made his reappearance.

Him, and the determination with which he got them out of danger.

The relief that filled Sam when he had come back.

Him, his eyes sparkling with an indecipherable emotion when he looked at Sam.

Him, and the bravery with which he faced Lucifer.

The fear that threatened to drown Sam when Gabriel’s life was in danger.

Him, and the look in his eyes when his big brother stabbed him.

Him, and the life slowly draining out of his eyes as he fell to the floor.

The sinking feeling in Sam’s stomach when he realised that Gabriel was dead.

Him, and the shadows of his wings on the wooden floor of the motel.

Him, and the strange, familiar warmth that enveloped Sam, coming from his dead body.

The comfort Sam felt when he spoke out loud.

Him, and the way it seemed Sam was talking to the actual Gabriel, the one he knew.

Him, and the forgiveness and tranquility that radiated from his body.

Him, and the way Sam spilled out everything he felt to him.

Finally, him, and the same sparkle his eyes once held now gone, as Sam lowered his cold body into the grave.

Sam shook his head to stop his thoughts from wandering. He steadied his breathing, picked up the shovels he had dropped and turned to face the rundown motel. He nodded at Castiel and started walking. He walked to the one place he could not forget, no matter how much he tried. The one place that was imprinted in his memory forever.

Castiel followed him, not saying a word. He knew Sam well enough to notice when he had other matters on his mind. _It must’ve been something of importance; Sam is not one to dwell on trivial matters. More must have happened that night than what he has been telling me,_ he thought. Castiel shrugged. He and Sam may not have been especially close until a few weeks ago, but Sam and Dean had always seemed to have an unspoken agreement with everyone they met- ‘don't ask if I don't tell.’

It didn't take them long to reach Gabriel’s final burial place. Sam knew the pathway from the motel to his grave like the back of his hand. Tracing the invisible footsteps he had made years ago, he thought of something. All those nights he’d woken up, drenched in sweat from some horrible nightmare, he had been dreaming of this place. Again, he was hit with the realisation that it was not the place that he had been dreaming of, but of Gabriel. He had been dreaming of coming back to the place where he had buried him, only to find him gone. Sam wasn't sure why he felt this way about the archangel, but it wasn't something he had time to think about now. _No, Sam. No thinking about this. There’s more at stake here than just your ‘feelings’ about an archangel-turned-pagan god. You can deal with this_ after _the Gates are open again, okay?_

Sam and Castiel stopped at the edge of the clearing. With the midday sun above them, the clearing was awash with sunlight. It was bordered by large, sturdy oak trees and small, fragile shrubs. The grass was long and unkempt, yet not untidily so. In-between the stems of grass were flowers: red, yellow, white, purple, pink and blue. Their simple beauty brightened up the otherwise dull clearing, bringing it to life. At the center of the clearing was a roughly dug grave. Over time, the grass and flowers had grown over it, leaving it to be little more than a slight mound covered in delicate yellow flowers.

“It this the place?” Castiel asked Sam, his voice low and vaguely reverent. Sam glanced at Castiel. The angel wore an expression of calm wonder. His cerulean eyes swept the clearing, taking in the place where Sam Winchester had buried his brother.

“Yeah, this is it. It’s the best I could find at that time and-” Sam was cut off by Castiel, who shook his head quickly.

“No, Sam. This-this is exactly what Gabriel would have wanted. Even back when we were in Heaven, all he would talk about was the beautiful forests he had seen on earth. His travels had taken him many places, but of all the places he’d visited, of all of our father’s creations he had seen, he loved the woods the most. Humans, too.” Castiel frowned. “Many of my siblings would say that his fatal flaw was hubris. They are wrong. His greatest weakness is his love. He loved Lucifer and Michael, who were his big brothers, and he would have done anything for them, I am sure of it. Even after everything that happened in the past few millennia, he would have died for them- which he did. He loved humanity as well. More than any of my other siblings. He was the first to love your race. Even Michael, who bowed first, and Raphael, who bowed second, did not love your kind. For them, you were little more than our Father’s new toys. Gabriel, however, loved humans so much that he left Heaven and hit amongst them and their deities.” Castiel trailed off and looked around him, his eyes holding a deep sadness for his brothers’ fates.

“His Grace- I can feel it. It’s tied to his vessel.” His eyes lit up with hope. “This plan of yours. It will work. I can guarantee that we will be able to bring my brother back. However,” Castiel warned. “I cannot promise that he would be willing to help us. Gabriel has never been one for doing what others want of him- he usually does the exact opposite”

Sam chuckled. This was something he knew to be a fact. He knew that Gabriel’s help was something they couldn't count on, but he’d come so far on the hope that he would help them. He couldn't back away now.

“Well, Cas? Let's get digging. We have an archangel to summon and Heaven’s Gates to reopen.” Grinning, he tossed Cas one of the shovels he’d brought with him from the bunker.

The pair descended on Gabriel’s grave, moving in unison. They dug in silence until Castiel held up a hand mere minutes later.

“His vessel is there. We should not dig any further.”

Sam nodded and tossed the shovel away. He didn't understand his hurry to get Gabriel back. He berated himself mentally for dwelling on his feelings yet again as he brushed away the soil that covered the angel’s body. With Castiel’s help, he pulled the body out of the grave. To his surprise, the body was squeaky clean. Before he could say anything, Castiel touched his forehead and the body’s, sending the unlikely trio back to the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos, comments or bookmark this if you want. Or just smile and think, "yes. I liked this" (if you did), and move on. It's all appreciated.
> 
> I'm found posting stuff and flailing on tumblr as gabrielwinchhester, so come say hi!


	4. Chapter 4

Dean jumped. As normal as Cas popping in and out at random times had become, it still freaked him out.

“Back so soon?” Dean teased. “Did you pick up some more pie?”

Sam huffed. “No, Dean, we did not. We did, however, pick up the last thing we needed for the spell. Which is, incidentally, what we went out to do. So, did you get everything else ready?”

Dean sighed. His little brother had no sense of humour these days, and especially not today. Today, all Sam seemed focused on was getting Gabriel back. Whenever Dean had tried propose the idea that maybe bringing the archangel back wasn't a good idea, Sam shot him down. Dean had also noticed Sam had somehow forgiven Gabriel for what he’d done to them, or at least chosen to forget about it. Gabriel hadn't done half as much damage to the older Winchester than to his brother, yet Sam was the first to forgive him. _Then again,_ Dean thought, _maybe Sam just want this all over, just like I do. And maybe the only way for him to be able to work with Gabriel is to forgive him._

“Yeah, Sammy. We have spray paint, candles and our bunker’s built-in dungeon at our disposal. We also have one of Gabriel’s victims’,” he said, adding air quotes for emphasis at that point. “Blood. And, to top it all off, we have an old belonging of the angel’s- the cowardly ass’ vessel.”

Sam’s eyes flashed at Dean’s words, something Dean decided to ignore. He’d deal with Sam’s overly trusting nature later, after they'd brought the archangel back from wherever the hell angels went when they died. _Speaking of which…_

“Hey, Cas, where do angels go when they die?” Castiel frowned at Dean and cocked his head.

“I do not know. All I know is that we do not return to Heaven. There are theories, of course, that we go to Purgatory. This may be true, and it is the most plausible theory that I have heard.” Castiel replied.

Dean’s face paled at this statement and he met Cas’ eyes. Sam could tell that he and Cas still both had bad memories of the place, considering the amount of time they had spent there. An unspoken conversation passed between Dean and Castiel, after which Dean took in a shaky breath and forced a smile.

“Great. Purgatory. So, if that's where Gabriel would have gone if he really had died, where would he be now? Where would he be before we swoop in and rescue him?” Dean questioned Castiel again. This time, it was Sam who answered. He had come across the answer when he had researched the archangel.

“According to the lore, he should have been in either Vallaha or Hel. Since the Loki half of him died and Hel was Loki’s daughter, it's most likely that he's there, with his daughter. When we summon him, he will return from there.” Dean nodded and exhaled.

“Let's get this show on the road. Cas, you get the sigils done, alright? Sam, the blood?” Dean winced. “And I'll get the spell and his body ready. Can we get this over and done with? I'd like a nap. It's been one heck of a day.”

Sam and Castiel nodded and the three went to the dungeon and got to work. Dean lugged the heavy body of the archangel downstairs to the dungeon and grunted as he went.

Castiel took the cans of spray paint and the sheets of paper where Sam had drawn the sigils. Then, with painstaking care, he painted the sigils.

Dean tossed Gabriel’s body onto the dusty floor of the dungeon and paged through the book, opening to the page where the spell was written.

Sam picked up one of the knives on the table and a bowl. Hands trembling in anticipation, he cut his arm slowly and let the blood flow into the bowl. He waited until there was at least a half-bowl full before he pulled his arm back and tied a strip of cloth onto it as a makeshift bandage.

Wordlessly, Dean handed Sam the book. The page it was open on showed the sigil that Sam needed to draw on the archangel’s vessel in his blood. The book stated that his Grace would be bound to the vessel using Sam’s blood as a link.

Sam drew on the sigil, his movements growing more and more hurried as he realised- Gabriel was coming back. Not only that, but this way, they would be able to open the Gates again. The Host would regard Castiel as a hero, Castiel would be able to overthrow Metatron and Sam and Dean would finally get a break. Maybe they'd forgive each other this time. And Gabriel? Well, Sam was sure he would love to go back to the opulent lifestyle he had lived before.

Or maybe… Maybe he’d hang around for a while- help them, even. Sam couldn't deny the fact that he didn’t hate him. He had tried, sure, but it hadn't worked. Unlike Dean, no matter what Gabriel did to Sam, it was impossible for Sam not to see his point of view, understand and forgive him. These were things he had never said out loud or even thought about, until now. Sam hadn't known that he'd frozen up until Dean placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You alright, man?” Sam jumped, stood up and smiled a stressed, quick smile.

“Yeah. I'll guess I'll start the spell, then.” Sam looked around the room. Castiel turned off the lights and Dean lit the red candles he had brought with them and placed them on the line of white chalk- the circle Castiel had drawn. The circle surrounded the archangel’s vessel. Norse sigils and symbols, all of which spoke of summoning and life, binding and resurrection, covered the floor inside the circle. Gabriel’s vessel lay in the centre, in fetal position. His signature green jacket, along with his shirt, was lying outside the circle and his bare chest displayed a single sigil- the one Sam had drawn on in his own blood.

Sam took a deep breath and steeled himself. He glanced at his two companions and they joined hands in a circle around the body. Gently placing the book on the floor, he started the spell.

“We call the one

in green

To come forth and be seen.

Be he far or be he near,

Bring us the Trickster, Loki, here.”

Sam looked up to see Dean staring at him in disbelief.

“That's it? That's the whole damn spell? Sammy, you're kidding, right? There's nothing else to it?” Sam almost laughed at his brother’s incredulous expression, but before he could utter a single syllable, the body on the floor moved.

It wasn't so much a movement as a twitch, but all three in the room noticed it- they were all seasoned fighters in their own right.

Eyes fixated on Gabriel’s body, their breaths slowed and the tension in the room doubled, tripled and dissipated as the groan filled the room. It was Gabriel. The groan grew louder and Sam, ever the compassionate, selfless soul, knelt on the floor next to him, supporting him with one arm.

Gabriel opened his whiskey coloured eyes. They blinked once before they focused on Sam with surprisingly calming intensity.

“S-Sammy?” He said it so softly, Sam wasn't sure he had said it at all. Sam smiled and whispered, “Gabriel.”

For a while, Sam and Gabriel sat still, Gabriel in Sam’s arms, head in his lap, neither doing anything in particular, until the silence was broken by Dean.

“Well, welcome back, I guess,” he muttered.

“Brother. It is good to see you again,” said Castiel, his face relaxed and his voice tinged with relief.

Gabriel coughed and waved a hand dramatically. “Yes, yes, good to see you two too. I'd love to have a tea party and catch up, but the wards you've got around this Batcave of yours have weakened me. And yes, I know what you've got in mind. Archangel, ritual, open the good old Pearly Gates and help you kick Metatron out of Heaven on his sorry ass. Bad news, kids. I was already weak enough when Sammy here-“ at this, he glanced at Sam again.

When he did, inexplicable shivers ran down Sam’s spine that he tired to ignore- he really did. Along with the shivers came a wave of warmth, similar to the warmth he had felt the night at the motel.

“-rang me up. Since I was in Hel and not in earth or Heaven, my Grace could only recharge at half the usual speed. How long have I been there for? Four earth years or thereabouts? In that time, I've managed to refill half my metaphorical tank of Grace. Summoning me up from… from Hel… that drained me. Getting past these dammed wards wouldn't have affected me if my Grace was at full strength, but I haven't had enough time to heal. I swear, it's like you two have a force field around this place or something.” Gabriel paused and sighed.

“So, I'll help you chuckleheads, sure, but only after a few days. I'm sure you geniuses can hold on until then. An archangel needs his beauty rest- or sleep, after all. Preferably sleep…” Gabriel slumped in Sam’s arms. Instinctively, he tightened his grip around the angel. He looked up at Castiel and Dean, who wore identical faces of confusion. Castiel’s eyes flicked over the pair on the floor and landed on Sam’s before he spoke.

“Dean, I think it would be best if you were to take Gabriel to a room. I don't think he’ll wake soon. He needs to rest, otherwise his Grace…” He trailed off, his thoughts seeming to bother him.

“That's not important right now. Dean,” he said and turned to him.

“Sam and I need to talk. Please.”

“Yeah, sure Cas.” Dean picked up Gabriel and Sam’s arms returned to his sides. In unison, the brothers stood up. Sam brushed himself off and placed Gabriel’s jacket on his chest. Dean shifted the angel’s weight in his arms and left the room, carrying him bridal – style. Sam and Castiel watched them go. When they had reached the end of the hallway, Sam spoke.

“What's wrong, Cas?” Castiel shook his head woefully.

“Sam, his Grace. I could feel it. It's- the best way I could put in to words- ‘fractured’. His Grace- it's fractured. The amount of pain he must be in…”

Castiel grimaced, his face paling as he imagined it.

“I could never even begin to describe it. It must be excruciating. I don't know how he managed to stay awake for so long.”

Castiel’s head snapped up. Sam frowned and looked at him with concern.

“What? What is it?”

“Sam,” he said slowly. “Was it your blood that we used for the spell?”

Sam nodded.

“Yeah, the spell called for the blood of one of his victims. After the mystery spot _and_ the TV land fiascos, I guess I was the obvious choice. Why do you ask?”

“Well, it seems as if the usage of your blood has hastened his healing process. I'm not sure why, exactly. There is a reason for that to potentially help an angel, but I'm not certain about it. If the blood helped in that regard, only time will tell. However, his healing must be why the spell called for it. The entity being summoned by a summoning spell always looses power, or life force. Since the blood of a victim could kill a Trickster, it might very well be that the same blood could also be used to heal the Trickster.”

“Oh, so its sort of like using snake venom to treat a snake bite.”

Castiel cocked his head and thought about Sam’s statement before answering.

“Yes, I suppose. That would be a probable analogy.”

Sam nodded and smiled, but his heart wasn't into it.

“Sam, what's wrong? I can tell that there is something bothering you. You can trust me,” said Castiel, his voice laced with worry.

“Wha-oh, yeah, Cas. No, I'm fine. Well, I will be, once I know that Dean hasn't killed or injured the only chance we have to open the Gates,” he grinned.

Castiel frowned at Sam; he knew that that wasn't it. He also knew that the only way he was going to find out was if Sam told him. Sighing, Castiel forced a smile.

“I guess we should go check on Dean and Gabriel. Do you know where Dean might have taken my brother?”

Sam nodded and the pair walked down the hallway wordlessly with Sam leading the way.

At the end of one of the hallways, they reached a door. It was identical to the rest of the Bunker’s rooms, situated next to Sam’s room and across from Dean’s. Sam opened the door cautiously. As the door swung open, he and Castiel were bombarded with a slew of shouts, none of which were aimed at them.

“Yeah, well, I didn't ask for you to be brought back!”

“Are you kidding me? I'm the one you nitwits summoned!”

“It was Sam’s idea, not mine, so don't you dare put this on me!”

Sam cleared his throat loudly. Dean, who had been standing with his back to the door, glared at the angel one more time and pushed his way past his brother, grumbling as he went. Unbidden, Sam felt a slight blush creep up his face as the archangel came into view. Memories of the night he had died flooded into Sam’s mind. He sighed. Whatever had made him think he should have spoken to the archangel- or at least the idea of him- that night?

 _Oh god,_ he thought. _Oh god- what if he remembers? What if he was somehow there? Because he wasn’t really dead, was he? Even if he only remembers some of it, it's bad enough. I let my guard too far down that night. I don't think I could take it if he remembers it. What if he remembers it? What if he looks at me and looks away again? Not that I care, though. I just know that whosoever’s gotten close enough to me to know the things I told ‘him,’ has died. Either that, or they've never trusted or spoken to me again. And there's so much I want to know about from Gabriel- angel and archangel lore, mostly, and history. Things about Heaven and about Hell. Things that Dean probably knows about from Cas already, since they share a more_ ‘profound bond.’

“I'll go talk to him,” said Castiel quietly.

“You do that,” said Sam. He smiled softly at his brother and his angel as Cas left the room.

Gabriel was sitting on the bed, his arms crossed petulantly. Sam shook his head and sat in the chair next to Gabriel's bed wearily.

“What were you two fighting about this time?” Sam queried.

“Oh, you know, dear old Dean-O wasn't very happy about my being here, as usual,” said Gabriel in a light tone. Sam looked at him curiously. Gabriel’s voice was steady, but Sam could see that it was hurting him. Sam’s eyes scoured Gabriel’s face, looking for any sign of recognition of the night.

“Gabriel…” Sam sighed as the angel cut him off.

“No, Sam. I understand. You and your brother never liked me. And heck, who could blame you? All I've ever done is hurt you. Over and over and over again. You especially. What I did at the mystery spot was bad enough,” his voice faltered as he waited for Sam's reaction. When Sam continued looking at him as if he hadn't said anything that warranted a negative response at all, he continued.

“But then, I had to go ahead and stick you two in TV Land- which was, admittedly, one of my finest pranks. Of course, to top it all of, I show up at the motel- where I was probably one of the last beinsg on earth you wanted to see. Sam, I don't get one thing. Why, after all the things I've done to you, why do you still hate me less than Dean does?”

“Gabriel, I don't hate you. In any sense of the word. I-I don’t think I could hate you, no matter how much I tried. Granted, you may have been a dick at times, but I forgive you for that. And I know that you know that I can't hold a grudge against someone who hasn't like, betrayed me, or something. You were the only archangel who ever helped us, which made up for everything for me. Dean, on the other hand, seems to have more of a problem with you. I'm not sure wh-”

“It's alright, Sam. And thank you, by the way. For not hating me, I mean. Dean does, I'm pretty sure most of my brethren do, and Cas probably does as well. But you, Sammy. You don't. That, I can feel. I don't know why you still don't hate me, but I sure as hell ain't going to question it. Just- thank you.” Gabriel smiled hesitantly at Sam, who was feeling a tentative mixture of somehow familiar warmth, surprise and… sympathy?

_He really doesn't remember. He doesn't. I would know if he did. His eyes aren't lighting up in the way they do when he's pranking someone, or when he's hiding something from someone. And he's not smiling his trademark lopsided smile… Wait a second. How is it I can I read him so well? Like now- I know that he's tired, exhausted even, and that he's barely holding it together. And I know that he's not lying to me about anything. He honestly does appreciate my not hating him. I could never hate him. I could never find it within myself to hate him. He's a lot like me in many ways, and I know he knows that, but he'd never say it-_

Sam’s musings were cut off by Gabriel’s muted whisper, “And that's all that matters.”

For a second, Sam was sure he had stopped breathing. He was certain that he was not supposed to have heard that, but he was glad that he had.

“Hey, Sam?” Sam’s head snapped up to look up at the angel. He inhaled sharply. The angel looked tired. More than tired, he looked drained.

“Yeah, Gabe?” Without Sam noticing, the nickname rolled off his tongue easily, as if it was what he always called him.

“I-I need to rest. Actually, I'd love to sleep for a few years or so, but a day will do for now. After that…” Gabriel trailed off and Sam saw that he'd actually fallen asleep. Sam’s mouth turned up at the corners to form a vague hint of a smile as he stood up slowly to stand beside Gabriel’s bed.

Gabriel’s eyes were closed, his breathing slow and steady. He was shivering, which Sam had thought angels didn't do, since they didn't care about temperature and other petty human hindrances. After a second of hesitation, he pulled the blanket up to cover his slight body, being careful not to wake the archangel up.

He stared at the now sleeping archangel, studying his relaxed features. The now-familiar warmth that he felt whenever he came close to the angel enveloped him again, soothing him.

 _He looks so different when he's asleep._ Sam’s breathing quickened. Gabriel’s hair, which was barely shorter than Sam’s, was falling over his face in careless waves. Feeling a slight tug in his gut, Sam instinctively brushed the hair away from Gabriel’s eyes so that the sandy strands framed his face perfectly. His eyelashes were long and dark, darker than his hair. His cheeks were coloured with the slightest tinge of red and were covered in his usual five o'clock shadow.

_He almost looks at peace. I never realised how much he's actually been through- his family being how it is, him having to leave his home and find a new life for himself on earth._ Sam’s eyebrows raised in surprise. _We-we’re more alike than I thought. We both hid away from our lives in denial, found where we thought we belonged, only to be pulled back in again. I'm luckier than he was- at least I’ve had Dean to talk to, and Bobby. Gabriel? Gabriel’s had no one. He's had no one to talk to about what he's wanted. When he figured out what he wanted to do, he went and did it. All by himself. He’s… he's strong._

“Sam?” Sam straightened up abruptly, his hand leaving its position beside Gabriel’s face of its own accord. In the doorway stood Dean, his face showing nothing but a spark of slight confusion.

“Yeah, um, Gabriel went to sleep. I-I was just about to come talk to you.”

“Right. Come on, then.” Sam nodded and followed Dean out of the room with a fleeting glance at the sleeping archangel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos, comments or bookmark this if you want. Or just smile and think, "yes. I liked this" (if you did)' and move on. It's all appreciated.
> 
> I'm found posting stuff and flailing on tumblr as gabrielwinchhester, so come say hi!


	5. Chapter 5

“What the hell was that about, Sam?”

Sam looked up sharply at his brother. “What are you talking about?”

“You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about. Back there? With Gabriel? You were staring at him like he was the center of the frigging universe! You want to explain what that was about?” Dean was both furious and frustrated.

First, Sam hadn't told him about the near-domestic burial Gabriel had gotten from Sam’s hands. Then, he had to get _Cas_ in before he actually told him. Dean could understand why Sam was hesitant to tell him, but his brother’s obvious lack of trust in Dean to take the matter lightly hurt more than Sam’s not telling him.

He also knew that his brother and Gabriel had had a much more tumultuous history than he and the former Trickster had. That didn't seem to stop Sam from being all… civil with the guy. Sam's too-trusting nature was no secret, and Dean mentally berated himself for not talking to his brother about being careful around Gabriel earlier.

 _Then again,_ he thought, _that might not go so well. Sam isn't a child anymore-he hasn't been one for ages now. Yes, he's made mistakes, but I know I can trust him. It's me he can't trust. I need to fix up what I did. I know Sam doesn't trust_ me _anymore, and telling him that I don't trust_ him _won't help._

“You know what? Never mind. Just- be careful, alright? The guy isn't exactly known for being trustworthy.” Dean fixed Sam with a look that spoke of more than his words did. Sam frowned and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Are you sure that's all you wanted to say? Didn't seem like it before… Dean, what's going on? If this is about the mistakes I've made by trusting supernatural creatures before, so help me-“

“What? No!” Dean scoffed and avoided looking at his brother. After a moment, he looked up and relented under Sam’s hard gaze.

“Okay, so maybe it's about… that. Look, Sammy. I know we’ve been over this before, but I just want you to be careful, alright? It's possible that he might not help us in the end, so we can't trust him with much yet. We don't even know who's side he's on! For all we know, he could see personal gain in helping Metatron keeping the Gates closed. I mean, he did leave Heaven in the first pl-”

“No.”

Dean looked at his brother in shock. Sam’s eyes were full of a rather terrifying coldness, one Dean couldn't say he'd ever seen before.

“No. He's on our side. He would never help Metatron. He might have, if he had’t known the full story. Lucky for us, he does know. He knows about what Metatron’s been doing to his brothers and sisters. He does know. I don't know how, but he does. I saw the anger in his eyes when he talked about helping us, Dean. He _wants_ to help. He _wants_ the Gates opened. You forget, Dean, that the only reason Gabriel left Heaven was because of the fights. It wasn't because he didn't love his family. Saying he’d betray them is like saying that I would betray you.”

Sam left Dean standing in the empty corridor.

He opened the door to his room with a surprising amount of force and slammed it behind him, signaling to Dean that their discussion was over. Sam sat down on his bed, his head in his hands. He wasn't sure what had come over him- the sudden wave of protectiveness he felt for the angel, and his need to believe that Gabriel was _good,_ and that he wouldn't betray them. Sam didn't know what he'd been expecting from Dean- empathy, maybe, and maybe a little faith in Gabriel and in Sam- that Sam had made the right call, and that he hadn't made a mistake by getting the archangel back in action.

He could understand Dean’s apprehension- after all, if Gabriel did decide to join Metatron, the opposing side’s advantage over them would only increase. Castiel had once described the archangels as being Heaven’s most powerful weapon. Sam had seen proof of this at the Elysian Fields Motel. When Gabriel had faced Lucifer and held his blade against his brother to protect them, his eyes had contained an ancient, inexplicable fire. One that terrified Sam and let loose a blanket of safety over him simultaneously. In that moment, when Sam had locked eyes with the archangel before getting out of his way, he had been grateful that the pure anger in his eyes had not been directed at him. In that split second before he had left the room and Gabriel had turned to face his big brother, Sam had detected a rare flash of regret in Gabriel’s eyes.

Sam sighed and scrubbed his face relentlessly. If Metatron came to know of Gabriel's reappearance on the playing field, it would not end well for them. The archangel was now one of the major players in the war, an unsuspecting, probably unwilling one, but certainly one of the most powerful. Sam, Dean, Castiel and everyone on their side, even Gabriel himself, knew that the side that had Gabriel, had won the war before it had begun. Sam could only hope that he was going to stay. Stay, and help them. Stay, and not leave, not before Sam figured out whatever it was he felt.

Sam looked up when he heard the steady knocks on the door. Resigning himself to the idea of it probably being Dean, he stood up wearily and walked over to the door, opening it after a second’s hesitation.

“Cas?” He asked, confused. The angel was standing awkwardly at his door, a sheepish half-smile on his face.

“Sam. Dean asked me to come see whether you were alright. I believe you two had a… disagreement? Dean was reluctant to talk about it, but he said that it had something to do with my brother. May I ask what happened?” Castiel walked in when Sam waved him in and stood stiffly next to the desk before Sam gestured to the chair, inviting him to sit down. Sam collapsed on the bed and ran a hand through his hair fretfully.

“Honestly, Cas, I don't know what came over me. All Dean asked was why I was so eager to trust Gabriel, even though he might change sides later on. And then, I kind of… exploded. I guess I see some of myself in him, you know? We both ran away from home, repeatedly, in my case. And we both had absent fathers and at least one older brother who basically raised us,” Sam trailed off, noticing Castiel’s startled expression. “What?”

“You're right, Sam. You two are surprisingly similar. That explains why the blood ritual worked!” Castiel’s face lit up with realisation. He, unlike Sam, had figured most of it out.

Surprised, Sam frowned at Castiel. “Blood ritual? Cas, my blood was only used for the summoning spell, not for some blood ritual,” he sucked in a breath. “I'm guessing that's what you were talking about earlier. There was more to that spell than just summoning Gabriel, right?”

Castiel slumped in his chair. “I'm afraid so, Sam. The spell was altered due to the presence of Gabriel’s Grace. Instead of merely using your blood, and by extension, your soul, to summon him, it also… tied the two of you together, irreversibly. It's not a blood spell, per se, but it's close to one. That's the reason why he is healing faster than expected- the ‘link’ between you two strengthens both parties. It's hard to explain, but the link allows for a certain amount of telepathy, of sorts. Since your soul is tied to his Grace, it is possible that you may experience a heightened version of Gabriel’s feelings, and he, yours.” 

Sam’s frown deepened as Castiel’s words sunk in.

“So you're telling me that I've accidentally bonded with an archangel? And what else does this link between us do, except for easy access to emotions? So, if I walk into a really cold room, would Gabriel suddenly start shivering, even if he's in the Sahara Desert, or something?” Sam’s questions came quick, his speech varying in tone and volume as he contemplated the link or bond’s implications. Suddenly, it struck him.

“Cas, is this… link like the ancient angel mating ritual? I-I’ve read about that in the lore, mostly in the more obscure books, and I never got around too asking you whether it was true or not,” Sam looked at his friend expectantly.

Castiel sighed. “Sam, the angel mating ritual you speak of has long since become obsolete in Heaven. It was a popular practice back when we didn't have civil wars every few years. Nowadays, nothing of the sort takes place. The mating ritual was sacred, and it was only stopped because of the risk of the wars. In more recent years, it had even been changed to allow for angel-human bonds. Through the bond, there would never be any more Nephilim. See, once two angels, or an angel and their human, were mated, the bond would ensure that should one angel dies, his or her mate would die as well. There has been unrest in Heaven for a long while now. The higher-ups, mainly Michael and Raphael, deemed it necessary to outlaw the mating, purely to ensure that the death toll of any future wars did not double,” Castiel shook his head in sorrow. “Sam, if you think that the wars you have heard of in that Bible of yours were bad, the ones that have been going on since my creation have been much, much worse. The divine order has been upset ever since Lucifer’s Fall. Michael grew more and more authoritative, and Raphael more and more sure that he was better suited to being the Host’s leader. So no, it's not an angelic mating bond. But it's very, _very_ close to being one.”

Sam sighed and scrubbed his face with his hand again.

“So, what do we do know?”

Castiel smiled. “Well, I think it's time for some research. Also, I stand to be corrected, but I think Gabriel is awake.” Castiel frowned suddenly and cocked his head to the side as if he was listening to something.

“His Grace is calling to me of its own accord. I think he has healed some more. I'm not sure how, but it seems to be so.”

Curiosity and a strange mix of excitement, happiness and relief at Castiel’s news about the archangel pulled Sam up from his seat on his bed and dictated his next words to the now confused Seraph.

“Should we go see what Gabriel knows about this link thingy? He’s an archangel, maybe he knows something different?”

Castiel smiled, as happy as Sam was to find out that his brother was doing well. “Lead the way, Sam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos, comments or bookmark this if you want. Or just smile and think, "yes. I liked this" (if you did) and move on. It's all appreciated.
> 
> I'm found posting stuff and flailing on tumblr as gabrielwinchhester, so come say hi!


	6. Chapter 6

Sam and Castiel stood by the bed of the clearly slumbering archangel.

The younger Winchester raised a suspicious eyebrow, his voice taking on a tinge of sarcasm and an amused grin spreading across his face. “Awake, you said?”

If Castiel's expression was anything to go by, Sam could tell that he was just as lost as Sam himself was. Within the next few seconds, Castiel straightened up with a look of relief filling his icy blue eyes.

“It must have been his injured Grace calling to me. Angels go into a sort of Grace-induced deep coma when their Grace has been hurt. It's a self-defense mechanism Dad ingrained into our Grace to make sure our Grace doesn't sustain further damage-” Castiel was about to continue, but Sam cut him off.

“You're saying he's in some sort of coma? Cas, I thought this link thing was supposed to _help_ him heal!”

“The coma is only temporary. He will probably come out of it in a few hours. It just ensures that the angel has enough time to recover from their Grace wounds. There is no reason to worry, Sam. By tomorrow, he’ll be awake and fully healed, because of the coma and the link,” he reassured the restless hunter.

Sam let out a breath that he hadn't known he’d been holding in. His mouth had been set in a thin line ever since they had seen that Gabriel wasn't awake. Slowly, his face relaxed into an easy smile. Castiel fixed him with a curious gaze, obviously wanting to ask why his expression had changed so. Sam coughed and looked away. He wasn't going to say anything to Cas about the… crush he seemed to have on the comatose archangel. Sam groaned inwardly. It was one thing to admit to some sort of feelings for someone, and quite another to give a name to them. There was no denying it anymore, not even huddled in the safety of Sam’s own mind. Every sense he had screamed that it was wrong, wrong to have any feelings towards the Trickster aside from ones of anger, indifference and a tinge of gratefulness- he had died for them, after all. In a split second, Sam had two voices in his head.

 _So, what, I'm going to get lectures from myself in the form of the Devil and an angel? Nice try, self, but Lucifer’s in the Cage with no way of getting out, and having an angel on my shoulder is_ not _going to help, especially not in this situation,_ he mentally chided himself.

The one voice rung in his head, deep and resonant.

_‘Sam. I thought I raised you better than this. Trusting a creature? We’re hunters, Sam. What did I tell you when you were young? Shoot first, ask questions later, right? It seems you have forgotten me, and all I taught you.’_

Even if it was in Sam’s head, a figment of his imagination, the derisive voice of his father made Sam’s insides curdle with fear.

_So, dad? You're the proverbial Devil in this situation? Great. Now who's the angel?_

All of a sudden, a soothing, familiar voice filled Sam’s head.

_Hey, baby. Miss me?_

As sure as the fear had risen up inside Sam at John’s voice, calm washed over Sam at the sound of Jessica’s voice. God, he missed her. Over the years, he'd come to terms with Jess’ death. He'd never forgotten her, but he'd moved on. He had loved her more than he had ever though he'd love someone, but she had been taken from him. He still loved her, and he'd forgiven himself for her death. No matter how many times his friends assured him that her death hadn't been his fault, he had still blamed himself.

Well, he had until the moment he lowered the gun after shooting Madison. Staring at her motionless body, her face streaked with tears, he had realised that blaming himself for either of their deaths would do nothing. Hunters lived by a single Golden Rule- don't have any connections that anyone could use to hurt you. Surely blaming yourself for two deaths that you couldn't have prevented, no matter how much you told yourself you could have, counted as a dangerous connection? One that anyone could use against you?

It was then that Sam had realised that he was ready to love again.

He had thought he had found the ideal apple-pie life with Amelia, five years later, but he had been wrong. There had been an instant connection between the two, but it hasn't been enough. As much as it pained Sam to even think about it, he knew that back then, he had needed someone who would make him want to give up the hunting life forever. Someone who would make him finally accept that Dean and Cas were gone, and there was no longer anything he could do about it.

He had thought that Amelia had been the one, even after her husband came back, but the second there'd been an opportunity for him to go back to his old life, as selfish as it seemed, he had rejoiced in taking it. He had loved her, but he had realised that what they had wasn't what he had been searching for. He needed someone- a friend or something more. Someone who wasn't Dean, or Dean’s angel.

Once Dean had come back from Purgatory, Sam gave in to what he had known all along- it wasn't someone who would make him want to give up his life for that he wanted, it was somebody who knew what it felt like to want to give up something, but not be able to. Someone who would understand and be able to keep up with him. Someone who wouldn't balk at the very idea of Sam’s job. _Someone_ , he thought, _like Gabriel._

In a flash, the humming sensation he had felt during the presence of the voices subsided and left. _So all I wanted myself to do was to admit that I need Gabriel around? Is that all? Wow. My subconscious is even more of a bleeding heart than I am._

Sam let out a short burst of laughter at himself and his screwed up, damaged mindset, causing Castiel to look at him with alarm.

“I do not understand. What is it about this situation that you find so amusing?”

Sam clapped Castiel on the shoulder playfully and smiled at his bemused companion.

“I just… figured something out, is all. Should we leave Sleeping Beauty to rest, then,” the taller man asked his angelic friend, grinning widely all the while. “Do you knew where Dean went? I guess the two of us should talk.”

Castiel, still befuddled at Sam’s apparent mood swings, told him that Dean had gone to the library to research the ritual Gabriel had to perform further, and that he himself would leave now and return in the morning. Sam nodded in thanks, glanced briefly at the sleeping form of the archangel who he was undoubtedly, irrevocably in love with, and left the room feeling like a massive weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

 _I guess the truth does really set you free,_ he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos, comments or bookmark this if you want. Or just smile and think, "yes. I liked this" (if you did)' and move on. It's all appreciated.
> 
> I'm found posting stuff and flailing on tumblr as gabrielwinchhester, so come say hi!


	7. Chapter 7

Sam Winchester was one of those people who loved every second of being in love. Even when he was much younger than he was now, his crushes always gave him something to rejoice about, something he could think about other than his less-than-desirable family life. Granted, his crushes lasted just about as long as they decided to stay in that particular town, but Sam had found them an interesting pastime nonetheless. No matter what Dean said or what anyone thought, Sam was a hopeless romantic at heart. This nature of his had been suppressed by the way they lived; as hunters, romance was not something that was high on your list of priorities. No, it was eat-sleep-kill-repeat, all your life. And maybe the occasional fling here and there, but there was no time for something serious.

That’s why Sam left for Stanford in the first place- this life, where you couldn't love anyone, lest that be used against you, just wasn't for him. Sam wanted to be able to love, to be able to act on a spark of connection, and the hunting life left no space for that. The four years he spent there, far away from everything he had run from, had undoubtedly been some of the best years of his life. He had thought he'd finally left the family business behind. But then, it had come, knocking down his door in the form of his brother. He loved his brother more than anyone, so of course he had packed up and left with him. Dean was his role model and he would have done anything- _anything_ to make him happy, just like Dean tripped over himself to please their father. And if Dean wanted him to come back to the life and hunt with him, then Sam was never going to refuse.

Soon enough, he had settled back into the hunting routine and it was like he had never left. Sure, Dad was gone, but it was, at least in Sam’s opinion, better that way. He and Dean worked better together than they had been able to with their dad around. It was around the time when he had learned about the demon blood pumping through his veins like a disease that he had finally accepted his fate- there was no going back. No going back to Stanford and no going back to the life he had painstakingly carved out for himself. His own little world. A world sparsely populated by Sam, Jess and their close friends. It wasn't perfect, but for four years,it was Sam's home. But this, this was his life now. For a while, romance had taken the backseat. His grief over both Jess and Madison’s deaths drove him to throw himself into job and forget about everything else.

Then, he had met the snarky janitor on a case. It hadn't been love at first sight, or anything of that sort. Sam had only been slightly interested in the man when he had first seen him. However, after he and the shorter man had shared a few jokes and Sam had been on the receiving end of his beaming smile and heard his melodious laughter, Sam had known he was interested. He had, at Stanford, realised that he was bisexual. Coming out to his friends there had been easy, and they had accepted it without much drama. Telling Dean had been more precarious, and he had put it off as much as he could, which meant that he still didn't know. And Sam didn't plan on telling him any time soon. Telling his father, whenever he had seen him next, had been out of the question. So he flirted, taking some joy in the man’s reciprocation. Dean, as obtuse as ever, hadn't noticed, and for that, Sam was thankful.

Sam smiled softly at the memories that came rushing back and entered the Men of Letters’ library. Dean was sitting in his usual chair with Sam’s notes on the risk in front of him. Sam’s smile faded as he saw Dean hunched over the stack of papers, his head in his hands and his sagged shoulders betraying his exhaustion.

“Hey,” Sam sat down next to Dean and ran his hand though his hair. “I-I’m sorry about earlier. I'm not sure what I was thinking. I was being unfair on you and you were right. We don't know whether Gabriel will help us or not. We don't know if we can trust him not to turn on us,” his eyes searched Dean’s face of any sign of hostility as he spoke. Finding none, he continued. “But, Dean, we have to give him the benefit of the doubt, for now, at least. We have to have faith that he’ll make the right choice, like he did last time.”

Dean nodded slowly and tapped out a rhythm on the desk next to him.

“You're right. Sam. I'm sorry too. I just assumed you'd agree with me, like you usually do. I guess I was wrong.” He smiled his brother, whose shoulders relaxed as he smiled back.

Sam hesitated before he said, “There's something else. According to Cas, the spell was altered and now… it seems like there's a link between Gabriel and me. We're not sure what it entails, but Cas says that it's harmless and it'll only help Gabriel recover and help his Grace heal himself. He- Gabriel- is in a self-induced coma now and Cas thinks he’ll be up by tomorrow, his Grace healed fully.”

Dean’s fingers stopped tapping and he looked up at his brother.

“I know.”

“Dean, it's nothing bad- wait, what? You knew? Since when? Why didn't you and Cas tell me?” Sam asked, his face frozen in shock.

Dean shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

“He told me after we performed the spell, when you and Gabriel were having a… moment once we brought him back. He just had a hunch back then, but I think he's confirmed it if he's told you. He didn't want you to flip out of anything, so he told me first.”

Sam slumped in his chair.

“Well. That's news to me. Anyway, are we going to do anything about it, or are we just going to ignore it and hope it goes away?” Sam was too tired to argue with his brother, and it hasn't been a big deal, anyway.

“Oh Sammy, when have ever done anything other than the latter? Don't worry. Cas said nothing will happen. Now,” he said, glancing at the ornate clock hanging on the wall. “Now, it's eleven. I don't know about you, but I've had a long day, and I need my five hours if I'm going to function like a human being in the morning. Get some sleep.” He clapped Sam on the shoulder, stood up and made his way towards his room, leaving Sam alone in the library.

When he reached the door, he turned and frowned, asking Sam, “Speaking of Cas, where is he?”

Sam looked up from the direction in which he had been staring in.

“Oh, he said he'd be back in the morning,” Sam stretched and walked towards Dean, following him to their rooms.

“Typical Cas- leaving without saying goodbye. Night, Sam.”

“Night, Dean.”

~

The brothers led off into their separate rooms and got ready to get a few hours of sleep before their new day began. Well, Dean did, anyway. Sam changed into the loose clothes he wore to sleep, brushed his teeth and, just before he lay down, made the decision to pop in on the sleeping archangel in the other room.

Walking on silent feet, he opened his door, exited his room and opened Gabriel’s room’s door, shutting it behind him. Breathing once again, he collapsed in the chair next to Gabriel’s bed.

“Sam?”

Sam jumped out of his chair, scared out of his wits. The hunter swept the room with his eyes, searching for the offending voice’s owner. The room was pitch black, and as far as Sam knew, only he and Gabriel were inside. And Gabriel was in a coma. At least, Sam could have sworn he was, because said Trickster had now snapped his fingers sleepily, switching the light on. The smaller man blinked up at him blearily, looking like he'd woken up after a decade’s worth of sleep, which, Sam supposed, he had.

“Gabe! What are you doing up? Cas said you were in a coma!”

The angel yawned expansively and rubbed his eyes with his fists, looking all for the world like a small human child, and not at all like Heaven’s most powerful weapon.

“Well, Sammy, it seems this link we’ve got going on here- nice touch, by the way, insisted on waking me up. It seems it wants me up and at ‘em when you're around. Anyway, I got a good sleep- a few interesting dreams, a couple of glimpses at the future, but nothing special. How's it going with you, Winchester?”

Despite being recently brought back into existence, Gabriel’s eyes still focused on Sam with the same burning intensity as they had before. If Sam didn't know any better, he'd say Gabriel’s honey coloured eyes were boring into his soul and not mean it. Considering he was an archangel, that was probably exactly what he was doing.

Sam coughed and contemplated his answer. Should he lie, and say he and come to get something from the room? Should he bend the truth a little and say Castiel had asked him to check on his brother since he had to leave? Should he tell the truth and say he'd wanted to check on him? Sam decided against lying, seeming as Gabriel would probably just use his archangel mojo to read his mind no matter what he said.

“I can to see if you were alright,” Sam said to his lap.

“That's sweet of you, Sammy, but I'm still not ready to help you, if that’s what you're wondering. It'll be another day, if not more, before my Grace heals enough to be able to perform the ritual. Then I'll be out of your and your brother’s hair and leave you and my baby bro to rule Heaven. You don't have to worry about me sticking around for too long,” said Gabriel in a defeated tone.

Sam’s heart dropped. He had hoped Gabriel would decide to stick around for a while after he helped him. Sam was then hit by feelings that were decidedly not his- surprise, shock and something that resembled happiness, all wrapped up in the familiarity of the blanketing warmth he'd come to associate with Gabriel. He looked up to see the archangel sitting upright on his bed, staring at Sam. His face was closed off, expectant, as he nodded silently at Sam. Sam took that as a sign that he had heard exactly what Sam had pondered, and wanted to hear him say it out loud.

“Or you could stay here. With us. I mean, only if you want to, it's not like I'm forcing you or anything, and you don't have to if you'd rather be elsewhere, but Cas… he misses you, and I think he'd be grateful if you'd stick around for a bit after we get the Gates open, and, you know, help him and stuff, but only if you wanted to, and Dean wouldn't mind much unless you messed up Baby or anything and, uh, I don't know where I'm going with this,” he finished lamely, avoiding Gabriel's eyes, lest he see something he didn't want to in them.

For all of a minute- Sam was counting down the seconds, they sat in the room, not speaking at all. Sam was staring at the floor when Gabriel answered, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“Well, when you put it that way, who could refuse? Although, you mentioned why Cas would want me around, and why Dean wouldn't mind, but not if _you_ wanted me hanging around with you three. I'm not going to stay if you don't want me, Sam.” Gabriel fixed Sam with an intense look that could rival Cas’ ones any day.

Sam stared at him in disbelief.

“You're kidding, right? Of course I want you around!” As soon as the words left his mouth, Sam blushed a bright red and looked away. He held his breath in anticipation of Gabriel's rebuttal. There was no way in hell that Gabriel would react in a desirable manner to that blatant baring of his feelings. He couldn't have made it any more obvious. Even Dean, the most emotionally constipated person he knew, would have picked up on it. Apparently, Gabriel had an even more debatably existent emotional range, because the sarcastic, snarky comment Sam was waiting for didn't come. Instead, he got a few moments of silence, followed by hushed words.

“Of course I'll stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos, comments or bookmark this if you want. Or just smile and think, "yes. I liked this" (if you did)' and move on. It's all appreciated.
> 
> I'm found posting stuff and flailing on tumblr as gabrielwinchhester, so come say hi!


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning, Gabriel awoke to the sounds of Sam Winchester’s slow, heavy breathing. The deep breaths betrayed that he was asleep, for which Gabriel was thankful. He needed to think, and having Sam awake would distract him from the many matters at hand. Then again, having Sam close enough to touch wasn't doing him any favours .The archangel sat up and stretched, yawning. He quickly checked his Grace for any major problems. Finding nothing but signs of healing, he turned his attention to his human.

Sam was sprawled out on the chair next to Gabriel's bed, his hair a mess and his face open and relaxed. Gabriel gathered up all the Grace he could and gently reached towards Sam’s soul. It called to him, bright and willing. Gabriel felt a flare of anger over how battered and bruised it still was rise up inside him. He pushed it back down again and forced himself to not set off and smite those who had hurt Sam, starting with Lucifer.

Lucifer, his brother. The one who Gabriel had looked up to since as long he could remember. The one who Gabriel had been closest to in their dysfunctional family. The one Gabriel now despised because of what he had done to Sam.

_Sam._ The root cause of everything Gabriel had done ever since he first laid eyes on him. Even back then, in his guise of the Trickster, playing a trick on an amoral professor, Gabriel’s Grace had recognised Sam. In an instant, he had known that it was him- Lucifer’s vessel, and the man Gabriel was going to keep one hell of a good eye on. Gabriel had peeked in on Sam's soul, and he had been shocked.

Despite the ugly stain of the demon blood running through Sam's veins, his soul shone brighter than any single human’s he had ever seen. Sam’s soul was radiant, a pulsating ball of pure energy and at its very core, at _Sam's_ very core, lay the thing Gabriel had found the most fascinating- hope. Sam's entire life, he figured, had been centered around hope. Hope that, in his early childhood, his his dad would be home for Christmas, for once, and not out on some job. Then, hope that he could have a normal childhood, or that they could at least stay in one town long enough for him to _feel_ normal, even if he had resigned himself early on that he'd never be normal. Later, it had been hope that he would be accepted into Stanford and be able to leave his life behind. For a while, his hope had been crushed. His father had died, and Sam and Dean were up shit creek without a paddle. All their lives, John’s presence had hovered over them like a rock ready to drop onto them and crush them at the first sign of disobedience. After his death, they were like two teens handed their first summer job- wary and unwilling to go on with what had seemed like a good idea before.

Now, Gabriel reached out to Sam’s soul once more and gently wrapped a thin tendril of his Grace around the throbbing bundle of power, soothing it with its touch. Gabriel’s brows knotted together in confusion as the tendril of his Grace was rejected, Sam's soul pushing it away as if it had been burned. Upon closer inspection, Gabriel saw the reason why- there was already Grace there, holding his soul together. To top it off, it wasn't just any Grace, it was Gabriel's.

_That ritual must have done this. Great. Not only is my Grace linked to Sam's soul,_ _but his soul to my Grace, too. This isn't what he must want. This- this is irreversible. There's no way in hell that I could remove the link now, fully powered up or not. One sided link, piece of cake. But this? It's basically a full bond!_

Gabriel let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding in- not that he needed to breathe, but still- and whispered, “Dammit, Sammy. I could barely stay away from you when we didn't share a partial bond. There's no way I'm going to be able to leave now.” The corners of his mouth turned upwards into a fond smile as Sam slowly woke up.

Sam yawned expansively, stretched his long limbs and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, a gesture reminiscent of the archangel’s own antics the previous night.

The hunter blinked softly and looked around the room for a moment, his eyes flashing, evaluating their situation and checking for threats in the way he'd grown up doing, before letting his guard down and smiling softly at the archangel.

The angel grinned back. 

“Rise and shine, Sammy-boy.” Gabriel noted the way Sam’s mouth turned into a wry smile at his use of a nickname, filing it away for later use. _Note to self: Use nicknames when wanting reaction from Sam,_ he thought, before mentally rebuking himself. There was no way in Heaven or Hell that he and Sam would ever have a close relationship that would allow for Gabriel to call Sam nicknames more than what was necessary. No, Gabriel would just have to be content with whatever Sam was willing to give him - an acquaintanceship, friendship even, or - and Gabriel shuddered at the thought- a casual tolerance of each other in the face of Difficult Situations Bigger Than One’s Measly Self That Require Peaceful Teamwork. Gabriel and these Situations did not get along at all.

“Morning, Gabe. Did I-” Sam looked around the room as the implications of his being in Gabriel's room, presumably asleep on the chair, took root in his brain. “-did I fall asleep here last night? All I remember is you… agreeing to stay. That's all.” Sam looked at the archangel, the latter’s position on the bed forcing to crane his neck slightly. Gabriel grin only widened at this, and he proceeded to reassure Sam that yes, he had fallen asleep at Gabriel's bedside.

“And before you ask, Sasquatch, I _am_ staying, and only because you asked nicely. You Winchesters and my wayward little bro ain't getting rid of me just yet.” Gabriel's words were accompanied by an eyebrow waggle that was familiar to Sam, and something… else, that certainly wasn't.

Once again, Sam sensed the warmth that threatened to drown him. Only this time, it was mixed with feelings- ones Sam's brain belatedly categorised as being fondness, satisfaction, and most surprisingly, affection. Sam had no doubts that the feelings were Gabriel's, and were being passed on to Sam through the link they'd accidentally formed between themselves. _Well, now isn't the time to worry about that. There's obviously something wrong with the bond, since Gabriel couldn't possibly directing these feelings at me. Anyway, it can wait,_ thought the hunter. For now, Sam was happy to sit back in his chair and (silently) admire the way Gabriel's eyes seemed to sparkle as if sunlight was glancing off bars of gold, even though they were indoors, and underground.

A minute or so of that morning was spent in a comfortable silence, with Gabriel and Sam studying each other’s faces and simultaneously pretending they weren't. Reluctantly, Sam broke the silence, venturing a question.

“So, Gabe. This… link, bond thing we have- what does it mean? I asked Cas and he said that it was similar to- to the ancient angel mating bond. Is that true or is there something else to it? Because Cas also said that the spell was altered because you went pagan for a while, so do you think that would've altered the bond… link- whatever it is- as well?” Sam subconsciously angled his body towards Gabriel's bed and gave him his full attention, trying not to melt underneath his piercing amber gaze.

What was it with angels anyways? Just because they _could_ look at your soul, it didn't mean that they could stare at you like they _were_ staring at your soul. Sometimes, it was just plain creepy. Castiel was bad enough, but Gabriel… Gabriel was a whole other deal. Not only did he stare at you, but unlike Castiel, his eyes held pure, unadulterated emotion. Nothing Sam could recognise or even put a name to, but something that spoke of an ancient, suppressed power. Sam forgot, with Gabriel's vessel being so unassuming and so much smaller than he was, that the man he was looking at was so much more than just a man. He was an archangel. Dammit, Sam should be scared of him, not happily conversing with him. But Gabriel wasn't someone Sam had ever been afraid of.

Sam had never been particularly religious, but he'd loved learning about the angels. As a child, he'd prayed every day. To say he'd been disappointed when he'd first met Uriel, and Castiel to some extent, would be a grand understatement. In his mind, angels were absolute manifestations of power. Righteous and filled with heavenly intent. Gabriel was like that. Castiel had become like that, after years of following the patented Winchester Five-Step Guide to Rebelling Against Heaven and Refusing the Path Destiny Has Laid Out For You.

Sighing and turning his back on his now-rambling thoughts, he sat, waiting for Gabriel's answer with pathetically concealed excitement.

“That's the sixty-four dollar question, isn't it, Sam? Truth is, it don't know,” confessed the archangel, shrugging and looking slightly sheepish. “I have no idea what happened to make the link between your soul and my Grace. Neither does my dear lovesick brother Cassie. All I know is- and I'm sure Cas has told you about this- that the spell bound your soul and my Grace together, creating a link. Right now, it's basically a glorified psychological mind-link. I can Professor X-you, and you, me.”

Gabriel visibly shrank, glancing at Sam with an almost shy look as he said, “And there is the slight concern about the half-formed mating bond.” Gabriel spoke the last few words so softly that Sam wasn't even sure he'd heard him correctly.

“Mating bond? But Cas, he said that it was similar to it, not that it was the same thing! He said that it'd become obsolete among angels. Unless, of course, it's different for archangels. Which it probably is, considering the substantial amount of differences your Graces have,” Sam paused at Gabriel's expression.

Gabriel was frowning slightly as he tilted his head to the side and looked at Sam intently. “What do you know about our Graces?”

Startled but the sudden turn the conversation had taken, Sam said, “What do you mean by that? All I know is that your Graces are different from lesser angels’, and that they can expand to create a… split personality, almost, but that's all.” Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion as Gabriel's shoulders slumped in apparent relief. “Why? What's wrong?”

Gabriel's mouth widened into a smile, one that reminded Sam of the old Gabriel, the one he had met at Crawford Hall all those years ago. Sam couldn't help but grin a little, glad that Gabriel was alright. For a moment, Gabriel's face had resembled the face he had worn that day in the warehouse, drenched by the sprinklers and trapped in a ring of fire. It was a look that filled Sam with dread; and one that haunted him in his nightmares. _Now that I think about it,_ Sam mused, _I have had a lot of dreams involving Gabriel. Bad ones, like the nightmares I've had about me going back to where I buried him and him not being there, mainly._

“Nothing, Sammy. It’s just- you deserve to know.” Gabriel's mouth had once agin twisted into a wry smile. “I wanted to know if you already knew this, but you obviously don't. Well, Daddy Dearest has always, even in the days when I was still a fluffy-winged, wide-eyed fledgling, had an interesting sense of humour. I would prefer to call it ‘morbid’, or rather, ‘sadistic’, but I'd probably get smited for that.” Gabriel's eyes lit up, as they always did when he was making jokes at someone else’s expense. Seeing Sam's raised eyebrows and deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression, he chuckled.

“Why so surprised, Gigantor? Angels are capable of blasphemy- I'm pretty sure that rebellious little brother of mine has shown you that already. And I am certainly no exception.”

Gabriel's expression turned grave once more, and he sighed heavily. “Anyways, back to story time. So, once Dad had created all four of us- Mikey, Luci, Raph, and little old me- he weaved something into our Graces. See, Sambo, every angel has at least two potential mates. If an angel mates with another angel, it's all sunshine and rainbows- until one dies, that is.” Sam nodded at this- Castiel had already filled him in on that particular intricacy of the mating bond.

“So, my old man, being the sadistic ass he is, decided to up the ante with us archangels. He decreed that the _only_ potential mates for the four of us would be humans. And not just any Tom, Dick or Harry, mind you- we could only mate with one of our brothers’ true vessels- unused, obviously.” Gabriel made a face as he said his last few words, highlighting his disgust. He then seemed to be overcome with an uncharacteristic bout of compassion as his expression warmed, and he looked at Sam once more.

“That's what I wanted to tell you, Sammy. See, you and I, we’re destined. Now, unless you actually _want_ this-“ Gabriel waved at the thin air between himself and the understandably shellshocked hunter beside him. “-to happen, then don't worry. I've never been too big on following orders from the Fates, and you and your brother’s very existence is a middle finger to the man upstairs, anyway. We can ignore this, and pretend nothing ever happened, alright, kiddo?” Gabriel smiled tentatively at Sam, but his heart was breaking inside. No matter what Gabriel said, or even what he did, he was _not_ okay with this- with not being with Sam. He hadn't told Sam the whole truth. Archangels only ever had the good fortune of meeting _one_ potential mate during their entire lifetime. And Sam was Gabriel's mate. Even now, as Sam and Gabriel sat together in perfect silence, Gabriel's Grace and Sam's soul called for each other, demanding for the bond to be completed and for them to become one. It wasn't something Gabriel wanted, for him and Sam to just pretend this morning had never happened, and that Sam hadn't just the previous night asked for Gabriel to stay. He didn't _want_ to forget the way Sam's eyes seemed to change colour, one moment hazel, green the next. He didn't _want_ to pretend he didn't see that Sam, if only at a lower level, reciprocated Gabriel's feelings for him. But no.

Gabriel couldn't force this on Sam. No. He'd hurt Sam enough already. Sam had enough on his plate as it was, what with Metadouche messing up Heaven and all. He didn't need to be shackled to a has-been archangel with a sugar addiction and a history of hurting people. Sam didn't deserve it- any of it. Gabriel would only end up hurting him, as he'd hurt his brothers and his siblings, his Father and the gods with whom he had found a semblance of a home. He'd even hurt _Sam,_ dammit! He'd hurt the one person he was supposed to never hurt. He couldn't pretend that the mystery spot incident, or the TV Land fiasco, had been easy for him. Every time he built up another challenge, another way for him to break Sam's defenses down, his Grace ripped itself apart, trying to make him stop. That was another reason why he'd almost died that day at the Elysian Fields Motel. He had been powered down, still hurting from the pain he'd caused Sam. He could barely force himself to face Sam, much less Lucifer. He couldn't bring himself to do that to Sam, or to himself, again.

_Well, it's not like I haven't run away before. I’ve been a coward once, I can become one again._

_I can._

_Only this time,_ thought Gabriel, _I'll running from somewhere I want to be._

~

Sam looked up at Gabriel to see the archangel looking positively desolate. He just couldn't bring himself to believe Gabriel's words, no matter how hard he tried. It was impossible to imagine that there was actually something _good_ that could come out of being the unused true vessel of the Devil. Sam felt his cheeks flush a bright red. _Gabriel._ The one angel Sam had never forgotten. It wasn't like Gabriel was the only angel who'd died for them- Castiel currently held the record for Sacrificed Self Most Times For the Mud Monkey Brothers Who Started the Apocalypse. But Gabriel, _Gabriel_ was the one Sam had mourned for. He had missed Gabriel. Sure, they'd never stopped biting at each other's throats long enough to get to know each other, but Sam understood Gabriel. He understood everything he did and everything he didn't. Sam could easily see himself falling for the angel entirely soon enough. It's not like it was hard, considering the circumstances. Sam had already admitted to a certain level of attraction to the shorter man, so moving up a few levels wouldn't hurt anyone.

It wasn't as if Sam hadn't been in love before. He had. First Jess, and then Madison. Sarah, as well. Even Amelia. But Gabriel... He has something else. The others before him had made him feel bright, happy and excited. Being with them was exhilarating, but not something he would have expected.

When he was with them, he felt like a small fish in a large pond. He just didn't belong. His heart sped up when they were around, and he had found it hard to form coherent sentences.

Being around Gabriel, however, was different. Being around Gabriel felt like home.

In this regard, Gabriel, was an entire other story. He was complex and mysterious where his previous loves had been easy to read and predictable.

Before Gabriel, Sam had never fallen quite in love with a guy before. He'd checked out guys, sure, and gone on a few dates to seedy bars at Stanford, but none in the more recent years. Sam also knew that if Gabriel was right, and if he and Sam really _were_ destined, then it wasn't something Sam could fight. It wasn't something he could just will away. Of course, if Sam accepted and told Gabriel how he really felt, and that he wanted to complete the bond, who was to say Gabriel wasn't going to up and leave? It is went like Gabriel hadn't done it before. It would be easy for him, because he didn't love, or even like, Sam. Yes, Gabriel laughed with him, and yes, maybe sometimes Sam caught Gabriel's stare lingering on him a little longer than it should've, and maybe there was something about the way Gabriel looked at him that reminded him of the way Jess had looked at him, when she was alive and they were oh-so in love.

Sam looked at Gabriel again, and this time, Gabriel noticed and gave him a small smile. If Sam hadn't known any better, he'd have said that his smile was tinged with sadness, and that the set of his mouth was decidedly the one that told Sam that Gabriel was about to do something he didn't want to. A few seconds passed, ones that felt like hours to both parties, before Sam spoke, "So we're soulmates, or something?"

Gabriel chuckled. Typical Sam. Always wanting to know more, seeping in knowledge like a dry sponge. Gabriel was only too happy to oblige, providing Sam with all the knowledge he had on the subject. It wasn't much, only around half of the truth, but Gabriel had never listened in Angel School anyway. He told Sam about everything, excluding the part about Sam being the only human who Gabriel could ever bond with. He also left out the part about him not being able to bond with anyone else, angel or human, except the hunter. Instead, he lied and told Sam that it was perfectly alright if they didn't complete the bond, and that it wouldn't matter anyways, because all the bond did was create a strong emotional and physical connection between the angel and their bonded. He watched Sam's face as he took it all in, his face lighting up at the promise of gaining knowledge. Gabriel could practically see Sam's brain immediately filing away the bits of information away for future use. Gabriel sighed to himself and smiled. Sam was such a nerd.

Sam smiled when he saw Gabriel smiling. Gabriel would be a good friend, if he'd have him. He wanted to get to know Gabriel. Maybe being more than friends was out of the question, but hopefully the offer of friendship was still there. It surely didn't seem as if either of them was against a friendship, as they easily slipped into playful banter, much like the conversations Sam and Dean used to have.

The two stopped their heated debate on the reason behind both bondeds' perishing when they heard Dean’s persistent knocking at Sam's door and its accompanying shouts of, “Sam! Get your lazy princess ass out of bed!” and its many variations. Sam signed and nodded at Gabriel, signaling that he'd have to go deal with Dean. Gabriel's bottom lip jutted out in a petulant pout, eliciting an amused huff from Sam.

“Fine… promise you'll come back?” Gabriel looked up at Sam pleadingly, his golden eyes wide. At first glance, all Sam could see in his companion’s eyes was a glimpse of the sarcastic, melodramatic Trickster he had once known. The hunter frowned. Mixed in within the playfulness that dominated the emotion swirling around in his eyes, was a tinge of something Sam could only call desperation. The hunter simply chuckled and looked at his feet for a moment before his lips twisted into a wry half-smile. He looked up at the angel again, surprised to see that the desperation he had seen before had vanished and had been replaced by an amused look.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I will be.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Morning Dean,” said Sam, yawning as he shuffled out of Gabriel's room. He rubbed his eyes once before noticing Dean’s incredulous stare. “Did I grow an extra eye or something? What's with the look?” He groused, but it was in good faith. However much of a dick Gabriel admittedly was, he was good company, and talking to him early that morning had done something to lift Sam's generally grouchy mood. Sure, they'd found a possible solution to the Heaven predicament, but the key word here was ‘ _possible.’_ And yes, Gabriel seemed rather optimistic about the sketchy plan Sam had hesitantly laid out that morning, but Sam wasn't buying his childishly cheerful outlook. There had to be a catch. Dean had suggested that before, but Sam had only realised it now. After all, they were Team Free Will (and Gabriel). Since when did _anything_ ever go right for them?

Dean coughed and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, nothing's wrong, Princess. Unless, that is, I'm hallucinating and you did _not_ just walk out of Gabriel's room like you'd slept there last night.” Dean chuckled. “I mean, you wouldn't-” the older Winchester caught his brother’s vaguely guilty expression just in time, causing him to groan. “You- you didn't sleep there, right? Goddammit, Sammy.”

Sam sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, especially when in the company of his rather infuriating brother. “Dean, get your head out of the gutter. I went there last night to check up on him, accidentally woke him up, we talked for a while- _talked,_ Dean- and I fell asleep. We didn't make out, or whatever the hell you're thinking we did.” Dean only raised an eyebrow so far Sam was scared it'd disappear into his hairline before he grinned, ready to- once again- tease his little brother.

“Whatever you say, Sammy. Anyway, angelic boyfriends aside-” Dean waved a hand at Sam's indignant squawk and continued. “Cas is here. He asked me to get you, the bossy trenchcoated general. He said he needed to talk to you. And Gabriel, apparently. Something about that link thing, I'm guessing. So you-” he jabbed a finger at his brother pointedly. “Should probably go do something about the busybody angel we have currently standing in our library, while I go get breakfast ready. And by breakfast, I mean leftover burgers. And beer. Lots of it. Okay?” Sam nodded, sensing that resistance was currently futile with his brother in his current mood. Nevertheless, Sam, the ever- healthy eater he was had just opened his mouth to argue, before the brothers were interrupted by a muffled cough. They turned in unison to face the newest resident of the Bunker- a rather grumpy, powered-down archangel with a serious case of messy bedhead.

“Well, if it isn't Sleeping Beauty! Nice of you to join us,” griped Dean. Gabriel ignored him- as usual- and faced Sam, a foreign look of desperate determination on his face.

“Where's Castiel? He and I need to have a little chat, if that's good with you and your jailer of a brother here.” The taller hunter was a bit thrown but Gabriel's sudden mood swing, but he attributed it to his being powered-down, and wasted no time in answering the archangel. “Yeah, he's in the library. Do you know where that is, or do you want me t-to show you?” Sam wasn't usually so awkward. He really wasn't. Gabriel, on the other hand, now had an amused smile on his face and replied with a sarcastic, “Look, Sammich. I was a bit out of commission last night when Dean-O carried me here- bridal style, really Dean? Anyway, I don't remember _anything_ about last night, except that you two muttonheads decided to cut my holiday with my daughter short and drag me back up here. That, and the riveting conversation Sam and I had last night.” Again, Gabriel and Sam both ignored Dean’s pointed cough, with Sam suddenly finding the material of his shoes very interesting.

“Well, Sambo, lead the way,” said Gabriel, a winning smile gracing his face. 

“Yeah, okay. The library- it's this way,” Sam muttered, shooting a glare at his brother, who was still snickering at delight, and waved an arm in the general direction of the corridor that would take them to the library. Gabriel started off down the corridor, Sam following a few steps behind.

 _When the hell did I turn into a nervous teenager talking to their crush again?_ Sam lamented mentally.

They reached the library with little conversation passing between the two. Gabriel opted to stay silent, which intrigued Sam. It was a well-known fact that Gabriel did _not_ do quiet. He was obnoxious, loud, over-the-top and brash- the exact opposite of Sam, who was more quiet and reserved. Sam hoped, on a moment of desperation when all Gabriel said in answer to a question was, “Yes,” that he wasn't planning on getting Castiel to take him to Heaven or anywhere away from the Winchesters. Then again, who could blame him? He was a powered down, practically defenseless archangel. The Winchesters weren't good company for any angel who wanted to stay alive, or any human for that matter. Sam berated himself for even thinking so, but he didn't want Gabriel to leave.

“Brother,” was all Sam heard before he saw Gabriel rushing towards the angel in front of them. Castiel smiled slightly at Gabriel, his mouth turning up at the edges ever so slightly. It may not have been much of a reaction, but Sam knew Castiel’s expressions almost as well as he knew Dean’s. Castiel was happy to see Gabriel, maybe even more than Sam had expected. Sam himself couldn't help but give a small snort of laughter as Gabriel launched himself at his taller brother and wrapped his arms around his middle. He saw Castiel stiffen, his arms staying at his side for only a fraction of a second before his smile widened into a full-blown one and he hugged Gabriel back in full force.

“It’s good to see you again, brother,” came Castiel's gruff response. Gabriel was the one to stiffen slightly this time, which surprised Sam. Gabriel’s reaction lasted only for a split second before he relaxed again, burying his face into Castiel's shoulder as he said, “You're a sight for sore eyes, little bro.” Castiel's eyes widened as he heard this, as did Sam's. They shared a look over Gabriel, who was still latched on to Castiel like a leech. Both knew that this was an uncharacteristic display of affection on Gabriel's part, but a welcome one nonetheless. Castiel and Gabriel broke apart and Gabriel, much to Sam's surprise and confusion, came to stand next to Sam. The tall hunter in question ignored Castiel's raised eyebrow and questioning look in favour of glaring at the air next to Castiel instead.

“Hey, Cas. You wanted to talk?” Upon hearing Sam's words, any trace of happiness seemed to drain out of Castiel, his face becoming drawn and haggard once more.

“Yes, Sam. I didn't want to brother you about it until much later, but I don't have much choice any more. The situation with Heaven is getting worse. More angels are going rogue as we speak. I don't mean to impose. I know you and Dean have a lot of work on your plate right now, what with finding a way to open Heaven’s Gates and all, but I need you help.” Castiel fixed Sam with puppy eyes convincing enough to rival his own.

“Of course, Cas! We’re not too busy to not be able to help you out. Speaking of which, what do you need help with?” Sam smiled at his angelic friend, who relaxed visibly, him shoulders slumping into a more comfortable position once more.

“Thank you, Sam. The angels- they've started causing even more havoc than before. It's been a nightmare trying to calm down some of them, especially with the limited reinforcements I have supporting me. If-if you and Dean could take care of a specific angel who's currently terrorising the entire state of California, it would be great,” he said, his gratefulness shining through his smile, before he turned to face Gabriel, fixing him with an intent stare. “Gabriel, you could help too, if you wanted. Your Grace seems to be healing slowly, but you could still lend a hand. I'm sure Sam and Dean - and I- would appreciate the assistance.” Castiel’s eyes were pleading, practically begging his brother to agree.

Yeah- yeah. I could do that. Anything for my little brother, right?” If Gabriel's eyes were glistening slightly when he looked at Castiel, none of the three in the room mentioned it. Sam cleared his throat and nodded at Castiel.

“Yeah, Cas. That sounds like something we could do. I’m not sure about what Dean-”

“What's that about Dean?” A very disgruntled Dean took up most of the doorway, four mugs of steaming… something precariously balanced on a tray, along with packets of sugar and cream they'd pilfered from diners around the country.

“Oh, uh… ummm, Cas?” Sam said eloquently, looking to Castiel and Gabriel to save him from what would be an awkward conversation with his older brother. Castiel opted rather to fixate his gaze on Dean, whose hair was sticking up all over, and ignore Sam's plea for help.

When it was clear to Dean that he wasn't going to get any words out of the angel, he all but rolled his eyes in exasperation and said, “I made us some coffee. My pleasure. Yes, Sam, before you ask, it _is_ that fancy Italian shit you're in love with. Gabriel, I brought you sugar and cream because I just _know_ you're the sugar freak. And good morning to you too, Cas, Gabriel,” grumped Dean as he stalked towards the trio. He shoved the tray into Gabriel's hands, who looked at him with a raised eyebrow before sighing and offering the steaming mugs to Sam and Castiel, who took them gratefully. Dean, who already had his mug in hand, sat down in one of the chairs by the desk and rubbed a hand across his face vigorously. This didn't seem to help him wake up any more, though, and he yawned expansively before asking, “Anyway, what's this all about?”

Castiel frowned at his cup of coffee like it held the answer to the meaning of life before looking at the man lounging in the chair. “Dean, I do not require coffee. You didn't have-” he was cut off by Dean’s exasperated, “Just… please, drink the coffee, Cas. I got zilch sleep last night, and just… please I'm really not in the mood.” Castiel frowned at Dean and took a pointed sip of the coffee before continuing.

“The coffee is good, Dean. In other news, the situation concerning the rogue angels on earth is only getting worse. There have been two incidents this, and there's only so many angels who are out there and actively trying to stop or reason with their brothers and sisters. In other words, I need your help,” he nodded at Sam, Dean and Gabriel.

“And he'll get that help, right, Dean,” asked Sam softly, looking at his older brother.

“Yeah, yeah, of course, Cas. You just needed to ask, man. You know we’re always here for you,” Dean smiled a genuine smile at Castiel, and the angel smiled back, wide and unrestrained. Their eyes locked and the quartet stayed like that for a few minutes, Dean and Castiel’s gazes fixated on each others’ faces, drinking in every detail as if there was no tomorrow. Sam's eyebrow had risen so high that Gabriel was sure it'd get stuck in his hairline sooner or later, so he leaned over to the taller man.

“They always like this? All doe-eyed and sappy looks?” When Sam replied with an amused snort and short nod, Gabriel smiled wide and bumped Sam's shoulder- well, halfway up his arm- and said, “That's sickening. I don't know _how_ you've managed to hold it together for so long without doing this-” before Sam could frown and ask the archangel what he meant, Gabriel was already in action. He snapped his fingers, and Dean and Castiel were pulled together as if by some supernatural force, which, if Sam wasn't mistaken, was exactly what had just happened. Gabriel turned back to gauge Sam's reaction and was pleasantly surprised when he saw the hunter half-doubled over in laughter, clutching the chair nearest to him for support.

Gabriel's grin widened even further when he saw Dean and Castiel jump apart like they'd been scalded. Dean coughed and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at Castiel before clapping his hands together and spinning towards Sam and Gabriel, both of whom were still chuckling.

“Right then. It is-” the hunter checked his watch with a flourish and cocked an eyebrow before continuing. “Half past eight AM. We’ll meet by the War Table at nine hundred hours to discuss what it is exactly that we need to be doing with our time while we wait for Mr. Joker over here to recharge his batteries and open up the Pearly Gates.” Gabriel placed a hand on his heart in mock hurt, which made Sam stifle a laugh. Gabriel could feel the waves of amusement, warmth and something that closely resembled affection rolling off the taller man who stood next to him.

 _Well, if Sam and I can't be together, then I guess I'll have to settle for making him laugh. He has a wonderful laugh, and that smile? Helen of Troy would be jealous._ Silently, Gabriel made a vow. He vowed as solemnly as his post of the Trickster would allow that he would become a friend to Sam. The bond would be content with the closeness their friendship would bring, and Gabriel would be able to see that smile and hear that laugh more often. What more could he possibly want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos, comments or bookmark this if you want. Or just smile and think, "yes. I liked this" (if you did)' and move on. It's all appreciated.
> 
> I'm found posting stuff and flailing on tumblr as gabrielwinchhester, so come say hi!


	10. Chapter 10

At nine o’clock sharp, all four of the intended participants of their little ‘hunt’ were standing around the War Table, acting as if they'd just met. There was a moment or so of shuffling of feet and coughing, before Gabriel finally cleared his throat loudly and said,

“Well, if we’re all done acting like socially awkward teenagers at a high school dance, could we sit down get on with this meeting? Or are we going to wait around until Sam and Dean’s hair turns grey?” With this, Gabriel sat down heavily in a chair, sighing theatrically and shaking his head. Sam, Dean and Castiel followed suit sheepishly. Sam chose to sit across from the shorter angel, with Dean and Castiel on either side of him. Gabriel nodded stiffly at his brother, indicating he should start with briefing them on the case.

“Well, like I said, there's been two incidents this week, both of which are close enough for us to investigate. One of them is obviously the work of a rouge Seraph, and the other is clearly a Rit Zien. Four people have died this week at the hands of angels. This- this is all my fault-” and once again, Castiel was interrupted.

This time around, however, it was Gabriel who cut him off. The archangel had risen to his feet and slammed his hands on the table with so much force that Sam could feel the glasses on the table shudder and hear a sharp inhale of breath coming from Dean. Sam looked up at Gabriel and was surprised, to say the least, to see Gabriel's eyes burning once more with that ancient fire and fury that he had last seen back at the motel. At that very moment, Sam decided to never, _ever,_ get on Gabriel's bad side.

“Don't you dare, Castiel,” Gabriel spoke in a low growl, each word vibrating with purpose and radiating power. “None of this is your fault. _None._ I heard about everything that’s been happening here when I was in Helheim with Hel. My daughter has many contacts, all of whom have heard of this Heaven fiasco, Castiel, and not one- not a _single_ soul has anything to the effect of this being your fault. I mean, come on!”

Gabriel straightened up with a jolt and began to pace back and forward in front of the table, hands clasped behind his back.

“I also go by Loki, remember? The damned Trickster? Think I wouldn’t recognise a good trick when I see one? No, Castiel, this was a trick. A well-planned, well-executed trick, sure, but a trick nonetheless. This is coming from the guy who used to trick people for _fun,_ Cassie. Take it from me, none of this is your fault,” Gabriel's tone had softened considerably and he had stopped pacing erratically hallway through his mini-speech.

“So please, don't break my heart here, little bro. I'm your older brother, Cassie, and I'm telling you that this is not on you, okay? So you'd better believe me, or I’ll be forced to convince you the way I did when you were but a fledgling.” Gabriel's eyes sparkled with mischief as he mock-threatened his sibling. Castiel’s eyes widened at the implication, but smiled widely as he stood up and walked around the table and wrapped his arms around his brother.

“Thank you, brother. For coming back and saying you'll help us and… for believing me,” said Castiel. Gabriel smiled before hugging his brother briefly, then gently pushing him away to arms length, his hand on his shoulder.

“Of course, Cas. Now come on, I believe we have a few of our siblings to set straight,” he said, while his face seemed to glow with glee and beneath that, a terrifying suppressed power. Sam straightened up. _This_ was the Gabriel of legend. _This_ was the heavenly weapon, the one from whom everyone shied. The power radiating in Gabriel's eyes turned his eyes darker, deeper gold than their usual sunny, bright yellow. Gabriel was smiling his usual carefree, arrogant smile, but something had changed deep within him. His stance was unassuming, yet he carried himself with the easy grace of a hunter. His body was coiled like a wire spring, the energy of the entirety of the earth’s existence buried deep within him. Sam glanced around the from and saw Dean’s raised eyebrow and Castiel’s confident stance. They saw it too. He was the archangel Gabriel, and he was on their side. He was absolute. He was heaven’s most terrifying weapon. Yet, instead of being up in Heaven, commanding the Host, there he was, beside Sam. And here Sam was, beside Gabriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos, comments or bookmark this if you want. Or just smile and think, "yes. I liked this" (if you did)' and move on. It's all appreciated.
> 
> I'm found posting stuff and flailing on tumblr as gabrielwinchhester, so come say hi!


	11. Chapter 11

“Okay, these angels can _what?”_ Dean asked incredulously.

Castiel and Gabriel sighed heavily in unison, both of them looking more like brothers in that moment than they ever had before. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and chuckled lightly before saying, “Yeah, Dean, you heard them. They can smite within seconds.”

Dean nodded slowly, his eyebrows slowly rising higher as he said, “And they're called what? The Right Zen?”

“They're called the Rit Zien, Dean, the Rit Zien,” Gabriel said in a tone that was dripping in disdain. Sam, however, noticed the sparkle in Gabriel's eyes that betrayed that he was enjoying this. The good-natured sparring with Dean, talking with his brother, Castiel after such a long time apart. It came easily, that much Sam could tell. It came easy, the four of them, together, working like a single not-so well-oiled machine.

Sam could tell being around Castiel made Gabriel happy. Dean’s presence was one Gabriel tolerated. The younger Winchester would like to think that it was his stellar powers of observation that allowed him to deduce this from just looking at Gabriel, but it was just because of their bond. Sam noticed with increasing trepidation that the bond seemed to have grown stronger, almost.

There was very rarely a moment now that he couldn't feel a trickle of emotion coming from Gabriel. The bond itself was easier to feel, more than it had been before. Sam could feel it at the back of his mind, a niggling feeling that told him, _someone's watching you._ It didn't make him uncomfortable or even make him want to put up his guard. Gabriel's presence- yes, Sam had worked out that it was indeed Gabriel he felt, and not just the bond- wasn't intrusive. It was a constant warm feeling that soothed him, just as the warmth he felt emanating from Gabriel did.

Castiel cleared his throat and continued. “Well, there's one rogue Rit Zien in particular who’s causing us a lot of trouble. He's killed three people so far in Boise **,** a city in Idaho.”

“ ‘Rit Zien’ is Enochian for ‘hands of mercy’. They served as medics on the battlefields of Heaven- tending to the wounded, and healing those who could be healed. The ones who couldn't be healed… well, the Rit Zien had a way of smiting that was almost instant. Their smiting rendered death almost painless. They were invaluable on the battlefield, but now? Now they pose a threat, along with the other rogue angels. They hone in on pain,” he said. Castiel’s shoulders sagged, and he looked in that moment as though the weight of the world was a burden he had taken upon himself to bear.

“During my time as a human, I have realised that humans and pain are almost inseparable. The Rit Zien, our brothers and sisters, will find as many hurting humans as possible and try do to them what they used to do to our siblings. That is exactly what this angel is doing. We have to go and stop him, otherwise more people will die.” Castiel looked up from the map where he had been pointing out the location of the small city that was Boise and fixed his eyes on Dean.

“I will need your help- all three of you. Dean, Sam- could you do what you usually do, and speak to the locals? I only have so much information about the incidents. I would do it myself, but past experience has taught me that it is not my strong suit. Gabriel, you're an archangel. The angel we're looking for will listen to you.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think they'll listen to me, Cassie? I've been gone for so long. No angel will give a crap about what _I_ have to say. I'm a deserter, a traitor. I'm nothing to the Host any more, Cassie, nothing. I can try, but I'm not promising any favourable results.” Gabriel sounded bone-tired, his face gaunt. Castiel nodded.

“All we _can_ do any more is try, Gabriel. The angels are not prepared to listen to anyone, much less you or me. We're the last angels any of them wish to see. They'd rather kill me, and you? Well, you've been gone for so long, many of the younger angels probably won't even recognise you. But we can try, Gabriel. We have to. For them,” said Castiel. Gabriel ducked his head and nodded, chuckling quietly.

“You've changed since I last saw you, Castiel. You've grown up, little bro. And I'm proud- so proud, of what you've done here. Sam, Dean, to two as well. You have saved so many people; killed so many monsters. You three chuckleheads have saved the world more times than I can count. Heck, you probably will again, with or without my help. _But_ , I'm hoping- _hoping_ , mind you- that just because Daddy Dearest made me first, it'll lend me, and therefore us, some sway over our siblings,” said Gabriel.

Dean cleared his throat. “Well, I think that's enough chick-flick moments for… forever, actually. Are we driving to Idaho or taking angel express?”

After a short yet heated discussion during which many voices were raised, countless ‘no’s were exclaimed, and Dean was heard many times saying lines to the effect of, ‘no, Gabriel, you are _not_ touching Baby, let alone _driving_ her, are you out of your mind?’, the mismatched band of four decided that taking Castiel Express was the best idea. Gabriel wasn't strong enough yet, and Dean had proclaimed that there was no way in hell he was letting a candy-loving, possibly diabetic archangel in the back of his car.

“He’ll get stains on her upholstery, Sam! I'm not having that,” he had complained, putting his foot down in an ultimatum. Gabriel had grumped for a while, insisting that he wasn't some toddler who was going to mess his car up entirely.

Quickly enough, he had chuckled and said, “Just messing with you, Dean-O. We’ll have Cassie fly us there instead, don't get your panties in a twist.”

Castiel took them to the parking lot outside of a small motel in Boise. He had taken Dean and the Impala there first, then Sam, together with Gabriel. The flight, as short as it had been, was not one that Sam enjoyed. Again, he had experienced the dizzying vertigo he always did whenever Castiel flew somewhere.

As soon as they reappeared in the parking lot, he felt a hand grip his arm. It was Gabriel, his golden eyes wide with concern. Along with the calm that Gabriel's steady hand on his arm brought, he felt a surge of protectiveness and anxiety from their bond. The emotions tumbled into him like water released from a dam; wild, unrestrained, the complete opposite of the usual barely-there trickle. Once Sam had taken a deep breath to reorientate himself, Gabriel spoke, his voice low. “You okay there, Sammich?”

Sam stared, shocks, at Gabriel for a split second before straightening up and forcing a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, Gabe. Thanks.”

Gabriel smiled and all trace of concern drained from his eyes, relief flooding in and taking its place. His hand dropped down from Sam's arm as he nodded, turning to Dean and Castiel. The pair were pretending to have not noticed them, but if their frequent glances in Sam and Gabriel’s direction were anything to go by, they had seen. Sam sighed and started forward towards his brother and their angelic friend. _Let's add that to the list of events Dean will tease me about,_ he thought. A small smile leapt unbidden to his lips at the thought of Gabriel, and the feeling of his hand on his arm. He didn't bother to hide the smile as he and Gabriel reached their brothers.

“Well, look who it is! Nice of you two lovebirds to join us,” said Dean, a playful smile on his lips. Before either Sam or Gabriel could respond, Castiel leveled a single look at the older hunter, which shut him up.

It was nearing night in Boise, Idaho, the sky above them darkening to a breathtaking shade of indigo. The stars sparkled as a young bride’s smile did when she walked down the aisle, the love of her life waiting for her at the end. Not for the first time, Sam Winchester craned his head to look up at the night sky, resplendent in all its glory. At the same time that he gazed up at the beauty of the sky above him, so did many angels cast out of Heaven. Unlike Sam, they looked up to the heavens above them in despair, not with unending hope. Their home lay above them, yet they had no way of getting back.

~

“I'm not sleeping in the same room as _Gabriel_ , Cas! He’ll put dye in my hair or some shit!”

“Trust me, Princess, I don't want to have to sleep through your snoring either.”

“What happened to all that ‘we’re angels we don't need sleep’ crap, then?”

“Oh I'm sorry, Dean, did you miss the part where I _died_ and came back? That too for you two, I might add.”

Sam and Castiel sighed heavily in unison and glanced at each other, both wearing identical expressions of despair. Sam shook his head. _Well, there’s no place like home, I guess,_ he thought.

Castiel finally intervened, sounding as exhausted as the rest of them, “He needs to sleep, Dean. His Grace is damaged, as I have said before, multiple times, and he is currently healing as a human would- through time, sleep and proper nutrition. Of course, the bond between him and Sam is helping.”

Castiel turned to Sam and Gabriel and began to address them. “That bond that you two have? It requires you to stay close while you sleep for the bond to be able to begin to healing Gabriel. Not-” he cautioned, seeing the horrified looks on his companions’ faces. “Not _that_ kind of close. No… touching of any nature is required. Just- one or two metres away while you sleep, that's all. Because of that, I think it’s better if Sam and Gabriel share a room. Dean- you and I can share one, if that's all right with you.”

Dean coughed before answering eloquently, “Yeah, yeah Cas. Sure.”

Sam couldn't deny the existence of his heart fluttering in his chest at Castiel’s words.

_No,_ he thought. _I can't think like that of Gabriel. He doesn't feel that way about me, never will. The bond doesn't mean he wants to be with me in any way. I'm not going to try anything, and I doubt he will either. So that's that- nothing will happen. We’ll work this case, open the Gates, and he’ll come on the road with us. He’ll probably annoy me to hell and back by then, but at least I won't think of him in the way I am now._

The case went just as well as they had expected- the Rit Zien, whose name was Ephraim- had very badly wanted to kill Castiel. All thoughts of that had disappeared once he had seen Gabriel, which was when he had paled and started stuttering, “I-I- Gabriel, uh… I'm not here to k- kill Castiel, or anything.” That was about as far as he had gotten before Sam had come up behind him and stabbed him. As the light of Ephraim’s Grace had poured out of his eyes and mouth, Sam had looked across the body of the dead angel at Gabriel. His feet were outspread, his eyes blazing with fury. He looked in that moment just as he had when he had been protecting them from Lucifer, and that scared Sam. Gabriel had looked at Sam and his eyes had softened, his shoulders sagged and the things about him that had previously intimidated Sam has washed away along with the light of the angel’s Grace.

Neither Sam nor Dean talked about the longing way in which Sam kept gazing at Gabriel. In the same way, neither Gabriel nor Castiel dared to broach the reason why Gabriel’s eyes wandered over to Sam every few minutes or so.

They decided to head back to the Bunker via Gabriel Express after they'd wrapped up the case with the Rit Zien. There weren't any other cases popping up nearby, and Gabriel insisted that he was feeling much better now, thank you, and he didn't need Sam and Castiel's constant fretting and worrying. Castiel was the worst of the two, with Sam butting in once in a while when Dean pushed Gabriel too far and Sam could see Gabriel's defenses crumbling.

A snap from a former Trickster and a smile from the younger Winchester later, they're back in Lebanon, Kansas. The bond’s pulling Sam and Gabriel closer together, and Gabriel can feel it growing stronger and stronger. Even Sam feels it- the childish, inexplicable joy he feels whenever Gabriel spies candy, the good-natured annoyance whenever Dean says something line and most intensely of all, the _want_ , no- the _need_ that hit Sam every time they stood close together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos, comments or bookmark this if you want. Or just smile and think, "yes. I liked this" (if you did)' and move on. It's all appreciated.
> 
> I'm found posting stuff and flailing on tumblr as gabrielwinchhester, so come say hi!


	12. Chapter 12

The week after the Rit Zien case is spent in unhurried relentless researching- Dean looking up ‘weird accidents’ in every database he can and Sam scouring the internet and the library for possible angel-related links to daily news. Castiel only stayed in the Bunker for three of those seven days, the other four spent following up on possible leads and tracking down rouge angels. Castiel’s absence was one felt sorely by the remaining three, especially by Dean. Even though he'd never admit to it, he woke up every day, got out of bed in record speed and headed to the War Room. The aptly named space had become their unofficial meeting place in the morning, and the place they'd find Castiel in the morning. If he'd shown up, that was.

Every morning, Dean went to the War Table with a hopeful spring in his step. Every morning Castiel was there, waiting for him with a sheepish grin, was one when Dean’s smile reached megawatt power, his jokes becoming more exuberant, causing Sam and Gabriel to groan in exasperation. Every morning Castiel _wasn't_ there, however, his feet dragged behind him and his smile faded into nothingness.

Gabriel had settled in surprisingly well, keeping his room next to Sam's. He woke up Sam every night with his rather violent emotions. Gabriel's feelings were intense- homesickness and guilt prevailing. Every night, unbeknownst to Dean or Castiel, Sam crept into Gabriel's room and they talked for hours on end before Gabriel's wild emotions finally settled enough for him to be able to sleep. Sam stayed for a while after, sitting next to Gabriel's bed and watching the angel sleep. One night, Gabriel gently broached the topic of the night he died. Sam didn't know about it before Gabriel told him, but Gabriel's spirit had been there that night, and he had heard everything.

They spent that whole night talking about Sam’s life, and Gabriel understood everything, just like Sam had hoped he would. They didn't talk about it again, but they were closer than they had ever been before.

~

“So you really _can't_ open the Gates before we complete the bond, then,” asked Sam, surprise written all over his face.

“Yeah, Sambo. I have to be anchored to earth somehow, and a bond is the only way it'll work. The power needed for the spell is of a large amount, and the only way for that to happen is for me to have a complete bond with a human. Your soul will lend power to my Grace, and I'll be able to perform the spell. You're okay with this, right, Sam?” Gabriel studied Sam, who was still staring at him in shock.

Sam's face suddenly cleared, becoming serene and thoughtful. “The bond will mean that we have to spend our lives together, right?” Gabriel stiffened. _The kid’s smarter than I thought,_ he mused.

“Well, yes. I can understand why you wouldn't want to go through with this, but-” Gabriel was cut off by Sam uttering an indignant noise.

“What makes you think I _don't_ want to spend my life with you, Gabriel? In case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of in love with you. Have been for a while, actually.” Sam said, ignoring Gabriel’s gasp and plowing straight ahead. “The bond only helped me realise that your presence is something that makes me happy, and that's all that matters. Now, what do we have to do to complete the bond?” He asked, smiling widely.

Gabriel’s mouth opened and closed like a fish for a few seconds, before he grinned and leaned over to Sam. “Well, not much, actually. This would be it,” he said. With his heart beating like a drum, he leaned even closer to the hunter and planted a firm kiss on his lips. Sam didn’t respond for a while before he smiled into the kiss and kissed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks!
> 
> Please leave kudos, comments or bookmark this if you want. Or just smile and think, "yes. I liked this" (if you did)' and move on. It's all appreciated.
> 
> I'm found posting stuff and flailing on tumblr as gabrielwinchhester, so come say hi!

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos, comments or bookmark this if you want. Or just smile and think, "yes. I liked this" (if you did) and move on. It's all appreciated.
> 
> I'm found posting stuff and flailing on tumblr as gabrielwinchhester, so come say hi!


End file.
